•  11^  I  Wll   •       • 


1 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/earlychurchformiOOhodgrich 


^p  (3ttix%t  j^oUffea 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH:  From  Ignatius  to  Augustine. 
THE  CASTLE  OF  ZION.     Illustrated. 
THE  GARDEN  OF  EDEN.     Illustrated. 
WHEN  THE  KING  CAME. 

WILLIAM  PENN.      In  Riverside  Biographical  Se- 
ries.   With  Photogravure  Portrait. 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
Boston  and  New  York 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

FEOM  IGNATIUS  TO  AUGUSTINE 


THE   EARLY  CHURCH 

FROM  IGNATIUS  TO  AUGUSTINE 


BY 

GEORGE  HODGES 

D£AN  OF  THE  EPISCOPAL  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL 
CAMBRIDGE,  MASSACHUSETTS  y 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

1915 


COPYRIGHT,   I915,   BY  GEORGE  HODGES 
ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 

Published  February  iqis 


TtoinT       HISTOR'I 


PREFACE 

THESE  chapters  began  as  Lowell  Lectures  in 
1908.  The  lectures  were  given  without  manu- 
script, and  have  been  repeated  in  that  form  in 
Cambridge,  in  Salem,  in  Springfield,  in  Provi- 
dence, Rhode  Island,  and  in  Brooklyn,  New  York. 
The  first,  second,  third,  and  fourth  were  then 
written  out  and  read  at  the  Berkeley  Divinity 
School,  Middletown,  Connecticut,  as  the  Mary 
H.  Page  Lectures  for  1914.  In  like  manner  the 
sixth,  seventh,  eighth,  and  ninth  were  given  at 
Kenyon  College,  Gambier,  Ohio,  as  the  Bedell 
Lectures  for  1913.  The  tenth  was  given  in  1913, 
at  Ann  Arbor,  Michigan,  on  the  Baldwin  Foun- 
dation. Finally,  the  lectures,  as  they  now  appear, 
were  repeated  in  1914  at  West  Newport,  Califor- 
nia, at  the  Summer  School  conducted  by  the 
Commission  on  Christian  Education  of  the  Dio- 
cese of  Los  Angeles. 

The  following  extracts  from  a  communication 
in  1880  to  the  Trustees  of  Kenyon  College  indi- 
cate the  intentions  of  Bishop  and  Mrs.  Bedell, 
founders  of  the  Bedell  Lectureship;  — 

We  have  consecrated  and  set  apart  for  the  service 
of  God  the  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars,  to  be  devoted 
to  the  establishment  of  a  lecture  or  lectures  in  the 


d^/r\^-^ijikj.i-^  r-s. 


PREFACE 

Institutions  at  Gambier  on  the  Evidences  of  Natural 
and  Revealed  Religion,  or  the  Relations  of  Science 
and  Religion. 

The  lecture  or  lectures  shall  be  delivered  biennally 
on  Founders*  Day  (if  such  a  day  shall  be  established) 
or  other  appropriate  time.  During  our  lifetime,  or  the 
lifetime  of  either  of  us,  the  nomination  of  the  lecture- 
ship shall  rest  with  us. 

The  interest  for  two  years  on  the  fund,  less  the  sum 
necessary  to  pay  for  the  publication,  shall  be  paid  to 
the  lecturer. 

We  express  our  preference  that  the  lecture  or  lec- 
tures shall  be  delivered  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
if  such  building  be  in  existence;  and  shall  be  delivered 
in  the  presence  of  all  the  members  of  the  Institutions 
under  the  authority  of  the  Board.  We  ask  that  the 
day  on  which  the  lecture,  or  the  first  of  each  series 
of  lectures,  shall  be  delivered  shall  be  a  holiday. 

We  wish  that  the  nomination  to  this  Lectureship 
shall  be  restricted  by  no  other  consideration  than  the 
ability  of  the  appointee  to  discharge  the  duty  to  the 
highest  glory  of  God  in  the  completest  presentation 
of  the  subject. 

The  original  sources  from  which  a  knowledge 
of  this  period  is  derived  are  readily  accessible  in 
translation.  In  The  Ante-Nicene  Fathers  (8  vols.) 
the  reader  will  find  most  of  the  writings  of  the 
Early  Church  under  the  Pagan  Empire,  to  the 
year  325.  A  Select  Library  of  the  Nicene  and  Post- 
Nicene  Fathers,  in  two  Series  (each  of  14  vols.), 
contains  the  most  important  works  of  Christian 
writers  from  325  till  the  beginning  of  the  Middle 

vi 


PREFACE 

Ages.  The  first  series  is  given  to  Augustine  and 
Chry  SOS  torn.  The  second  series  contains  the  books 
of  the  leaders  of  Christian  thought  and  life  from 
Athanasius  to  Gregory  the  Great.  The  Church 
History  of  Eusebius,  extending  to  324,  has  been 
translated  and  edited  by  Dr.  A.  C.  McGiffert. 
The  continuations  of  this  history  by  Socrates 
(324-439),  by  Sozomon  (324-425),  and  by  Rufi- 
nus  (324-395)  are  translated  into  English,  — 
Socrates  and  Sozomon  in  the  Second  Series  of  the 
Nicene  and  Post-Nicene  Fathers,  Dr.  Joseph  Cul- 
len  Ayer's  Source  Book  for  Ancient  Church  His- 
tory contains  significant  extracts  from  the  writers 
of  this  period,  with  interpretive  comments.  The 
first  volume  of  the  Cambridge  Mediaeval  History 
deals  with  the  fifth  century.  Professor  Gwatkin's 
Early  Church  History  to  318  and  Monsignor 
Duchesne's  Early  History  of  the  Church  are  recent 
aids  to  an  understanding  of  these  times. 

My  friend  and  colleague.  Professor  Henry 
Bradford  Washburn,  has  read  these  chapters  in 
proof,  and  I  am  indebted  to  him  for  many  help- 
ful suggestions. 

George  Hodges. 

Episcopal  Theological  School, 
Cambridge,  Massachusetts. 


/contents^ 

CHAPTER  I 
THE  ROMAN  WORLD 
I.  THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAND 

1.  THE  NEIGHBORS,   EAST  AND   NORTH     ...         1 

2.  THE   EMPIRE,   EAST  AND   WEST       ....        3 
8.   CITIES  AND   ROADS 4 

IL  THE  EMPERORS 

1.  IMPERIAL  DEMOCRACY 7 

2.  BEFORE  AND  AFTER  A.D.    313  ....        9 

HI.  SOCIETY 

1.  PATRICIANS:  PLINY 12 

2.  plebeians:  the  banquet  OP  TRIMALCHIO     .      15 
8.   SLAVES 18 

IV.  RELIGION 

1.  REVIVAL  OF   GREEK   PHILOSOPHY.         ...      19 

2.  RELIGIONS   FROM   THE   EAST 21 

(1)  MAGNA   MATER 21 

(2)  ISIS  AND   OSIRIS 22 

8.   THE   GODS   OF  ROME 23 

(1)  THE   PROSE   OF  RELIGION      ....      24 

(2)  THE  PERVASIVENESS  OF  RELIGION   .        .      25 

CHAPTER  n 

THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

I.  THE    TOLERANT    STATE    PERSECUTES    THE 
BENEVOLENT  CHURCH 

1.  ON  ACCOUNT   OF   GENERAL  DISLIKE     ...      33 

(1)  ENEMIES   OF  SOCIETY    (tACITUS)        .         .      35 

(2)  HINDERERS   OF   BUSINESS    (pLINY)     .         .      36 

2.  ON  ACCOUNT   OF   INCREASING  DREAD  ...      39 

(1)  BASED   ON  SUPERSTITION      ....      40 

(2)  BASED  ON  THE  POLITICAL  SITUATION     .      41 

ix 


CONTENTS 

II.  LOCAL  PERSECUTIONS 

1.  MARTYRDOM  OF  IGNATIUS  OF  ANTIOCH   .    .  45  ^ 

2.  MARTYRDOM  OF  POLYCARP  OF  SMYRNA   .    .  48 
8.  MARTYRS  OF  LYONS 52 

4.  MARTYRS  OF  CARTHAGE:  PERPETUA  .    .    .  54   , 

in.  GENERAL  PERSECUTIONS  , 

1.  UNDER  DECIUS 55 

i,  UNDER  DIOCLETIAN 59    , 


CHAPTER  m 
THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 
I.  AGAINST  PREJUDICE  y/ 

1.  APPEARING  IN  CONTEMPORARY  WRITINGS         .      64 

(1)  MEDITATIONS   OF  MARCUS  AURELIUS        .  64 

(2)  DIALOGUES  OF  LUCIAN  ....  66 

(3)  TRUE  WORD   OF  CELSUS  ....  67 

2.  CHRISTIANITY    DEFENDED    BY  JUSTIN   MARTYR  69 

n.  AGAINST  HERESY 

1.  gnostic  theology 72 

(1)  valentinus:  the  good  god  and  the 
bad  world 76 

(2)  marcion:  the  old  testament  and  the 

NEW 77 

2.  CHRISTIANITY   DEFENDED    BY   IREN^US: 

CHURCH  AND  CREED 78 

HI.  AGAINST  RIVALRY 

1.  mithraism 83 

2.  neoplatonism:    plotinus;    dionysius    the 

areopagite 86 

8.  christianity   defended   by   alexandrian 

teachers 87 

(1)  CLEMENT 90 

(2)  ORIGEN 91 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IV 
THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 
I.  THE  ORDER  AND  FUNCTION  OF  THE  MINISTRY 

1.  MONTANISTS  PROTEST  AGAINST  SEPARATION  OF 

CLERGY  FROM  LAITY:   TERTULLIAN  .         .      96 

2.  NOVATIANS     PROTEST     AGAINST     REFUSAL     OF 

THE     CHURCH     TO     RECOGNIZE     SEPARATED 

churches:   CYPRIAN 101 

8.  DONATISTS  PROTEST  AGAINST  DETERMINING 
THE  VALIDITY  OP  THE  MINISTRY  BY  OFFI- 
CIAL POSITION  RATHER  THAN  BY  PERSONAL 
CHARACTER 107 

n.  FORMS  OF  WORSHIP 

1.  THE     CHURCH    BUILDING    IN    THE   ECCLESIAS- 

TICAL HISTORY  OF  EUSEBIUS      .         .         .         .111 

2.  THE  CHURCH   SERVICE  IN  THE  APOSTOLIC  CON- 

STITUTIONS        117 

CHAPTER  V  /^ 
THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 
I.  THE  CONVERSION  OF  CONSTANTINE  .- -. 

1.  AS  RELATED     TO     THE     POLITICAL     SITUATION 

PRECEDING 122 

2.  AS    RELATED    TO    THE    ECCLESIASTICAL   SITUA- 

TION FOLLOWING 124 

II.  THE  COUNCIL  OF  NIC^A 

1.  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  ARIU8 125 

2.  THE  BISHOPS  IN  CONFERENCE       ....   129 
8.   THE  CREED 136 

m.  THE  WARS  OF  THEOLOGY 

1.  ATHANASIUS  THE  ORTHODOX 139 

,  2.  ASIANS  ATTACK  ATHANASIUS 140 

(l)  THE  BROKEN  CHALICE*,  («)  THE  DEAD 

HAND 141 

xi 


CONTENTS 

8.  ARIAN  COUNCILS  AND  CREEDS       ....  144 
4.  ARIAN   EMPERORS 

(1)  THE  ARGUMENT  OF  THE  SWORD        .         .  147 

(2)  THE  DEATH   OF  VALENS        ....  147 

CHAPTER  VI 

MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 
BASIL:  GREGORY 

I.  THE  BEGINNINGS  OF  MONASTICISM 

1.   THE  HARD   WORLD 152 

8.   THE  BAD   WORLD 153 

8.   ANTONY 155 

4.   PACHOMIUS 156 

n.  THE  MONKS  OF  ANNESI 

1.  BASIL  AND  GREGORY 157 

2.  THEIR  MONASTIC   RETREAT 161 

8.   THE  BASILIAN  RULE 163 

III.  BASIL,  ARCHBISHOP  OF  CiESAREA 

1.  JULIAN  AGAINST  CHRISTIANITY      ....   168 

2.  VALENS  AGAINST   ORTHODOXY        ....    169 
8.   THE  ADMINISTRATION   OF  BASIL    ....    170 

IV.  GREGORY,  ARCHBISHOP  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE 

1.  THE  PREACHING  OF  GREGORY        ....    174 

2.  THE  ACCESSION  OF   THEODOSIUS  ...         .         .    176 
8.   THE  COUNCIL  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE     .        .         .   176 

CHAPTER  \TI 
AMBROSE 
THE  ELECTION  OF  A  BISHOP        ....  180 

THE  LAST  STRUGGLES  OF  PAGANISM  AGAINST 
CHRISTIANITY 

1.   THE  PERSISTENCE  OF  PAGANISM  .         .         .         .184 

«.  THE  ALTAR  OF  VICTORY 186 

8.   THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  FRIGIDUS      ....    188 

xii 


CONTENTS 

III.  THE  LAST  STRUGGLES  OF  ARL^NISM  AGAINST 
ORTHODOXY 

1.  THE  BISHOP  AND   THE   EMPRESS    ....    191 

2.  THE  CONVERTS  OF  ULFILAS 193 

3.  THE  INVADED  CHURCH 198 

4.  THE  ASSISTING  SAINTS 200 

IV.  THE   PENITENCE  OF  THEODOSIUS     .       .      .201 


CHAPTER  Vm 

CHRYSOSTOM 

I.  THE    PAGAN    RIVER    AND    THE    CHRISTIAN 
MOUNTAIN 208 

n.  AT  ANTIOCH 

1.  A  PREACHER  OF  RIGHTEOUSNESS  .         .         .211 

2.  THE    SERMONS  OF  THE  STATUES     ....   215 

III.  AT  CONSTANTINOPLE 

1.  THE    SINGULAR    CAREER    OF   EUTROPIUS    .         .   222 

2.  THE  SAINT  AND  THE  SINNERS  ....  225 
8.  CLERICAL  ENMITY :  THEOPHILUS  OF  ALEXANDRIA  232 
4.  SOCIAL  enmity:  the   EMPRESS  EUDOXIA  .         .   235 

IV.  IN  EXILE 237 

CHAPTER  IX 

MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 
MARTIN:  CASSIAN:  JEROME 

I.  EAST  AND  WEST 241 

II.  MARTIN 

1.  VISIONS  AND  ADVENTURES 247 

2.  BISHOP   OF   TOURS 250 

3.  THE  PRISCILLlANISTS 251 

III.  CASSIAN 

1.  HIS  STUDY  OP  EASTERN  MONASTICISM        .         .   253 

2.  HIS  BOOKS  ON  THE  MONASTIC  LIFE    .         .         .   258 

xiii 


CONTENTS 

IV.  JEROME 

1.  EDUCATION  AND  EARLY   EXPERIENCES        .        .   260 

2.  THE   LIFE  OF  ST.  ANTONY 262 

8.   THE   ASCETIC,   IN   ROME     .  ' 264 

4.  THE  SCHOLAR,   IN  BETHLEHEM:   THE    VULGATE  269 

CHAPTER  X 
AUGUSTINE 
I.  THE  MAKING  OF  A  SAINT:  THE  CONFESSIONS 

1.  IN  CARTHAGE:  MANICHAEISM  ....   275 

2.  IN  MILAN:  NEOPLATONISM 281 

3.  CONVERSION 284 

n.  THE  BISHOP  OF  HIPPO 

1.  CONTROVERSY  WITH  THE  DONATISTS  .        .        .  289 

2.  CONTROVERSY  WITH  THE  PELAGIANS  .         .         .    292 

5.  THE  INVASION  OF  THE  BARBARIANS:  THE  CITV 

OF  OOD 296 

APPENDIX 
TABLES  OF  DATES 

I.  THE    ROMAN    EMPERORS,    FROM    AUGUSTUS    TO    AU- 

GUSTULUS 301 

II.   THE    PERSECUTIONS,   FROM   THE   FIRE    IN    ROME    TO 

THE  EDICT  OF  MILAN 302 

in.   THE  ADVANCE  OF  THE  BARBARIANS       ....   303 
IV.   HERETICS   AND    SCHISMATICS,    FROM    CERINTHUS   TO 

PELAGIUS 304 

V.  THE   FATHERS,  FROM  IGNATIUS  TO  AUGUSTINE         .   306 

INDEX 307 


'  THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

FROM  IGNATIUS  TO  AUGUSTINE 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  ROMAN  WORLD 


THE  Roman  world  was  bounded  on  the  west 
by  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  on  the  north  by  the 
Rhine  and  the  Danube,  on  the  east  by  the  Eu- 
phrates, on  the  south  by  the  Desert  of  Sahara. 
The  Egyptian  world  had  been  dependent  on  the 
Nile;  the  Assyrian  and  Chaldean  world  had  been 
dependent  on  the  Tigris  and  the  Euphrates;  the 
Roman  world  enclosed  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 

Outside  of  these  boundaries  lay  the  greater 
part  of  Africa,  of  Asia,  and  of  Europe. 

In  Africa  were  savage  people,  whose  descend- 
ants even  to  this  day  are  separated  from  civiliza- 
tion by  the  wide  barrier  of  the  desert. 

In  Asia  were  three  nations  whose  history  ante- 
dated the  time  when  Athens  and  Rome  were 
country  villages.  With  China  and  India,  the 
Roman  world  was  connected  by  an  adventur- 
ous commerce.  Every  year  merchantmen  sailed 
,down  the  Arabian  Gulf  and  across  the  Indian 

1 


»•    •  •  ,  •  i 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 


Ocean  to  Ceylon.  There  they  met  traders 
from  the  ancient  markets  of  the  East,  and  re- 
turned with  cargoes  such  as  laded  the  ships  of 
Solomon,  —  "ivory  and  apes  and  peacocks," 
with  spices,  gems,  and  rich  embroideries.  But 
Persia  was  an  enemy.  Beyond  the  Euphrates  the 
Persians  remembered  the  day  when  they  had 
ruled  the  world,  and  prayed  for  another  Cyrus 
who  should  make  them  masters  of  the  world  again. 
They  menaced  Rome  continually.  Sometimes 
they  succeeded  in  destroying  Roman  armies. 
Once  they  took  a  Roman  emperor  captive,  and 
the  rumor  drifted  back  to  Italy  that  the  King  of 
Persia,  whenever  he  mounted  his  horse,  stepped 
on  the  emperor's  neck. 

In  Europe,  on  the  wide  plains  of  Russia,  in  the 
thick  woods  of  Germany,  hordes  of  barbarians, 
impelled  by  mysterious  forces  such  as  summon 
the  tides  and  the  birds,  were  threatening  the 
South.  Already,  in  the  Old  Testament,  the  Book 
of  Zephaniah  was  filled  with  the  terror  of  the 
Scythians;  and  in  the  New  Testament,  the  Epistle 
to  the  Galatians  was  written  to  the  people  of  a 
province  which  had  been  seized  and  settled  by 
invading  Gauls.  The  Rhine  and  the  Danube, 
rising  only  thirty  miles  apart,  made  a  boundary 
line  between  the  empire  and  these  tribes,  guarded 
by  the  camps  of  the  legions. , 

2 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

Between  Italy  and  Greece,  the  deep  cleft  of  the 
Adriatic  Sea  divided  the  Roman  world  into  two 
parts.  The  divided  parts  differed  in  tradition  and 
in  language.  In  the  East  —  in  Greece  and  Syria 
and  Egypt  —  the  Romans  had  conquered  coun- 
tries which  had  ancient  and  splendid  traditions, 
and  were  more  civilized  than  their  conquerors. 
In  the  West  —  in  Italy  and  Spain  and  Gaul  — 
the  Romans  had  overcome  peoples  few  of  whom 
had  any  history,  and  who  had  imitated  the 
civilization  and  adopted  the  traditions  of  their 
masters.  As  for  language,  Greek  was  spoken  by 
all  persons  of  education  in  the  Roman  world  dur- 
ing the  first  and  second  centuries  of  our  era. 
Marcus  Aurelius  wrote  his  "Meditations"  in 
Greek.  It  was  not  until  the  beginning  of  the  fifth 
century  —  almost  at  the  end  of  the  period  which 
comes  within  the  compass  of  our  present  study  — 
that  the  West  had  a  satisfactory  Latin  Bible. 
Nevertheless,  as  time  passed,  the  Latin  language 
spread  though  the  Greeks  despised  it;  and  by 
and  by  in  the  West  Greek  was  forgotten.  Thus 
the  conditions  were  prepared  for  the  political  and 
theological  misunderstandings  which  eventually 
divided  the  West  and  the  East. 

The  Roman  world  was  filled  with  cities.  The 
civilization  was  intentionally  urban.  The  gov- 
ernment encouraged  the  centralization  of  social 


;THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

life,  gathering  the  people  into  municipalities, 
dignifying  the  great  towns  with  stately  public 
buildings,  and  providing  places  of  amusement. 
Out  of  these  central  cities,  men  went  to  work  on 
the  farms,  coming  back  at  night.  The  ruins  which 
are  found  to-day  in  places  now  desolate  and  re- 
mote show  both  the  extent  and  the  splendor  of 
this  civic  life.  Every  city  had  its  wall  and  gates. 
Colonnaded  streets  led  to  the  forum.  There  was 
a  public  bath,  and  a  public  library,  club-houses 
and  temples,  a  theatre  for  plays,  an  amphitheatre 
for  games.  Water  was  brought  in  aqueducts 
from  the  neighboring  hills  for  use  in  private 
houses,  and  for  fountains  in  the  squares. 

In  the  multitude  of  cities,  certain  of  them 
shone  like  the  greater  stars:  in  Italy,  Rome  and 
Milan  and  Ravenna;  in  Africa,  Carthage  and 
Alexandria;  in  Syria,  Antioch  and  Csesarea;  in 
Asia  Minor,  Nicomedia  and  Ephesus;  in  Greece, 
the  cities  of  the  Pauline  Epistles  —  Philippi  and 
Thessalonica,  Athens  and  Corinth;  Constanti- 
nople appeared  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth 
century. 

The  cities  were  connected  by  substantial  roads. 
They  penetrated  everywhere,  like  our  railways: 
for  the  sake  of  trade  and  of  travel,  for  purposes  of 
peace  and  of  war.  Straight  they  ran,  across  the 
valleys  and  over  the  hills,  and  were  constructed 

4 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

with  such  skill  and  made  of  materials  so  lasting 
that  many  of  them  are  used  as  highways  to  this 
day.  From  the  golden  milestone  in  the  Roman 
forum  they  extended  over  the  empire — to  Ha- 
drian's wall  in  Britain,  to  the  oasis  of  Damascus, 
to  the  Cataracts  of  the  Nile. 

It  was  an  age  of  travelling.  The  journeys  of 
St.  Paul,  from  Jerusalem  to  Damascus,  from  Da- 
mascus to  Antioch,  from  Antioch  to  Cyprus  and 
Galatia,  to  Athens  and  Corinth,  to  Malta  and 
Rome,  illustrate  the  facility  with  which  men  went 
from  place  to  place.  Along  the  roads  journeyed 
government  officials  with  numerous  retinues, 
rich  patricians  going  from  their  houses  in  the 
city  to  their  houses  in  the  country,  leisurely 
persons  out  to  see  the  sights,  philosophical  lec- 
turers seeking  audiences,  Roman  soldiers,  Jewish 
merchants,  missionaries  of  Isis  and  of  Mithra, 
preachers  of  Christianity.  Some  walked;  some 
rode  on  mules,  which  millionaires  shod  with 
silver  shoes;  some  were  borne  in  carriages  made 
comfortable  for  sleeping  or  reading.  Posts  marked 
the  miles.  Every  five  miles  there  was  a  posting- 
station,  with  relays  of  horses  in  the  stables,  for 
hire.  The  messenger  who  carried  the  news  of  the 
death  of  Nero  from  Rome  to  Spain  travelled  at 
the  rate  of  ten  miles  an  hour.  The  aged  bishop  of 
Antioch,  in  a  tragic  emergency,  went  to  Constan- 

5 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

tinople,  eight  hundred  miles,  in  a  week,  over 
fresh-fallen  snow. 

The  bales  of  the  merchants  contained  linen 
from  Egypt,  rugs  from  Babylonia  and  Persia, 
silks  from  China,  furs  from  Scythia,  amber  from 
the  Baltic,  arras  cloth  from  Gaul,  spices  from 
Ceylon.  The  postmen  carried  letters,  newspapers 
(acta  diurna),  and  books  in  handsome  bindings 
or  in  paper  covers  from  the  publishers  in  Rome  to 
the  booksellers  and  the  librarians  in  the  provinces. 
It  was  an  age  of  constant  correspondence.  Offi- 
cials, all  over  the  empire,  made  their  regular 
reports  to  Rome.  Much  of  our  knowledge  of 
the  time  comes  from  letters  —  epistles  of  Paul, 
epistles  of  Ignatius,  epistles  of  Pliny,  familiar 
letters  of  Ambrose  to  his  sister.  The  last  of  the 
great  Romans,  Symmachus,  kinsman  of  Ambrose, 
patron  of  Augustine,  wrote  nine  hundred  and 
fifty  extant  letters,  occupying  a  disappointing 
amount  of  space  in  them  with  explanations  why 
he  had  not  written  before. 

The  constant  transportation  and  communica- 
tion over  these  roads  aided  the  extension  of  a  new 
religion.  So  did  the  spread  of  commerce  which 
established  Jews  in  all  important  cities.  So  did 
the  universal  language  which  enabled  the  preacher 
to  address  the  people  directly,  without  the  need 
of  an  interpreter.  So  did  the  imperial  discipline. 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

which  made  the  roads  of  the  Roman  world  more 
safe  for  unarmed  travellers  than  roads  in  England 
in  the  eighteenth  century.  There  was  a  cosmo- 
politan quality  in  the  common  life  which  did  not 
appear  again,  after  the  fourth  century,  until  it 
was  restored  by  the  railway  and  the  telegraph 
in  our  own  time. 

II 

The  administration  of  the  Roman  world  was 
centred  in  the  emperor.  He  determined  the 
general  situation.  If  he  was  strong,  the  common 
life  was  uplifted.  If  he  was  weak,  selfish  and 
pleasure-loving,  he  gave  over  the  empire  to  his 
favorites,  and  the  court  was  in  confusion.  He 
was  an  absolute  monarch. 

There  were,  indeed,  certain  restraints  upon 
this  imperial  power.  Nominally,  the  Senate  must 
be  consulted.  But  during  the  period  with  which 
we  are  now  concerned,  the  Senate  was  in  subjec- 
tion. Practically,  during  a  great  part  of  this 
time,  the  army  made  the  emperors.  The  Roman 
world,  in  this  aspect  of  it,  was  a  rough,  military 
democracy.  Emperors  were  chosen  by  the  accla- 
mation of  the  legions;  at  first,  at  the  capital, 
where  the  soldiers  put  down  one  and  set  up 
another  in  return  for  competing  imperial  prom- 
ises; then  on  the  frontiers,  exalting  their  own 

7 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

commanders,  and  sometimes  chosing  men  who 
had  risen  to  command  from  the  lowest  ranks. 

Maximin  the  Goth  was  born  a  peasant.  He 
was  remarkable  among  his  rude  companions  for 
his  height  and  his  strength:  he  was  eight  feet 
high,  and  could  out -wrestle  anybody  in  the 
neighborhood.  Thus  he  got  into  the  army.  He 
attracted  the  attention  of  an  emperor  by  running 
for  miles  beside  his  horse  over  a  rough  country, 
and  then  throwing  a  dozen  stout  men  in  succes- 
sion. He  rose  to  be  a  captain,  then  a  commander. 
He  was  made  emperor  by  his  troops.  He  never 
saw  Rome;  his  court  was  in  his  camp. 

Philip  the  Arabian,  who  succeeded  him,  began 
life  as  a  brigand.  He  became  a  soldier,  and  his 
fighting  qualities  made  him  an  emperor. 

A  world  in  which  a  Gothic  peasant  and  an 
Arabian  brigand  could  ascend  the  imperial  throne 
had  in  its  order  an  element  of  informality  and  of 
popular  opportunity  which  may  fairly  be  called 
democratic. 

But,  once  upon  the  throne,  the  Roman  emperor 
held  possession  of  his  high  place,  even  above  the 
law.  Constantine  could  kill  his  wife  and  son, 
Theodosius  could  order  the  massacre  of  seven 
thousand  citizens,  Commodus  and  Caracalla 
could  hunt  their  enemies  through  the  streets  of 
Rome  like  wolves  in  the  woods.    The  emperor 

8 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

was  independent  even  of  public  opinion.  He 
feared  only  the  soldiers  and  the  assassins. 

The  period  of  the  Early  Church,  after  the 
Apostolic  Age,  from  the  days  of  Ignatius  to  the 
days  of  Augustine,  begins  about  the  year  100, 
by  which  time  most  of  the  books  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament had  been  written,  and  ends  soon  after  the 
year  400,  when  the  barbarians  were  actively 
engaged  in  the  destruction  of  the  Roman  Empire. 
It  is  divided  into  two  parts  at  the  year  313,  when 
the  Edict  of  Milan  granted  liberty  in  religion. 
Before  that  time  the  Roman  court  was  pagan; 
after  that  time,  it  was  nominally  Christian. 

The  two  centuries  which  thus  make  the  first 
part  of  the  history  of  the  Early  Church  saw  three 
eras  of  imperial  administration. 

For  eighty  years  (98-180)  there  were  four 
strong  and  good  emperors.  They  were  among  the 
best  of  all  the  rulers  of  mankind.  Under  Trajan, 
Hadrian,  Antoninus  Pius  and  Marcus  Aurelius 
the  world  was  governed  by  philosophers,  whose 
sincere  intention  was  to  rule  their  people  well. 

Then  for  eighty  years  (from  the  accession  of 
Commodus  in  180  to  the  death  of  Gallienus  in 
268)  there  were  nearly  twenty  emperors,  good 
and  bad,  but  more  bad  than  good.  Thus  the 
peace  and  prosperity  of  the  second  century  were 
followed  by  the  adversities  of  the  third.  Some 
,  9 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

of  these  adversities  proceeded  directly  from  the 
weakness  or  the  wickedness  of  the  emperors. 
Some  were  due  to  calamities  of  nature,  to  a  sin- 
gular series  of  storms,  earthquakes,  fires,  floods, 
plagues,  famines,  like  the  outpouring  of  the  vials 
of  doom  in  the  Book  of  the  Revelation.  Some 
accompanied  the  victorious  inroads  of  national 
enemies  from  the  north  and  from  the  east. 
I  After  that,  for  forty  years  (268-313)  four 
strong  emperors  redeemed  the  situation  and  saved 
the  state.  Claudius  and  Aurelian  were  victorious 
in  battle.  Probus  reigned  in  such  a  time  of  peace 
that  he  employed  his  soldiers  in  the  work  of 
draining  marshes.  Diocletian  in  his  court  at 
Nicomedia  eclipsed  the  splendor  of  Oriental 
monarchs.  His  abdication  was  followed  by  some 
confusion,  out  of  which  Constantine  emerged 
triumphant. 

The  century  which  followed,  being  the  second 
part  of  the  era  of  the  Early  Church,  was  troubled 
by  contentions  between  rival  emperors,  by  wars  of 
theology  waged  by  Christians  against  Christians, 
and  by  the  steady  advance  of  the  barbarians.  In 
the  history  of  this  period  (from  the  Edict  of 
Milan  in  313  to  the  death  of  St.  Augustine  in 
430)  there  are  four  outstanding  imperial  names. 
Constantine  (311-337)  tried  to  make  the  empire 
Christian;  Julian  (361-363)  tried  to  make  the 

10 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

empire  pagan  again;  Valens  (364-378)  tried  to 
make  the  empire  Arian.  They  were  theological 
emperors.  Theodosius  (379-395)  was  the  last 
ruler  of  the  united  Roman  world.  After  him,  the 
division  between  the  East  and  the  West  became 
definite  and  permanent.  He  was  followed  by  his 
incompetent  sons,  Honorius  and  Arcadius.  Rome 
was  taken  by  the  Goths,  and  Carthage  by  the 
Vandals. 

Ill 

The  society  of  the  Roman  world  in  the  age 
which  thus  extends  from  Trajan  to  Theodosius 
was  composed,  as  we  say,  of  higher  and  middle 
and  lower  classes.  The  higher  classes  were  the 
patricians;  the  middle  classes,  the  plebeians;  the 
lower  classes,  the  slaves. 

The  patricians  were  persons  of  ancient  descent 
and  abundant  means.  They  held,  for  the  most 
part,  the  great  honorary  offices,  consular  and  sena- 
torial. They  lived  in  magnificent  houses  on  the 
Palatine  Hill,  whose  ruins  still  attest  the  spa- 
cious and  luxurious  manners  of  the  time.  In 
the  summer,  they  retired  to  their  villas  in  the 
country,  among  the  mountains,  by  the  lakes,  and 
on  the  cool  borders  of  the  sea.  They  are  described 
from  the  point  of  view  of  an  unsympathetic  out- 
sider in  the  satires  of  Juvenal. 

11 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Juvenal  had  no  part  in  the  festivities  of  patri- 
cian society.  He  observed  them  from  a  distance, 
and  in  the  spirit  of  the  reporter  who  gets  his 
information  from  the  servants  and  writes  it  down 
for  a  constituency  which  is  willing  to  believe  any- 
thing bad  about  the  rich.  There  were  foolish  and 
extravagant  and  vicious  persons  in  that  society, 
no  doubt,  as  there  are  to-day  under  like  conditions. 
But  the  great  part  of  it  was  composed,  then  as 
now,  of  pleasant,  kindly  people,  sometimes  too 
content  with  their  privileges  and  unmindful  of 
the  wants  of  their  neighbors,  but  living  in  dignity 
and  virtue,  and  even  in  simplicity.  There  were 
extravagant  and  spectacular  dinner  parties; 
there  were  Roman  ladies  who  eloped  with  gladi- 
ators. But  these  things  are  easier  to  write  about 
than  the  plain  goodness  of  decent  domestic  life, 
and  have,  for  that  reason,  a  prominence  in  the 
record  which  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  their 
importance. 

We  have  an  example  of  the  high-minded  patri- 
cian in  Pliny.  His  people  had  lived  by  the  lake  of 
Como  since  the  beginning  of  the  empire.  He  had 
been  brought  up  by  an  eminent  soldier,  who  had 
been  governor  of  Upper  Germany,  and  had  twice 
refused  the  acclamation  of  the  legions  calling  him 
to  the  imperial  power.  He  had  had  the  advan- 
tage of  the  society  of  his  uncle,  Pliny  the  Elder, 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

who  was  forever  in  pursuit  of  knowledge.  From 
him  he  learned  habits  of  literary  industry,  and  of 
restrained  and  simple  living.  He  was  educated  in 
Rome  under  Quintilian,  who  put  the  chief  em- 
phasis of  his  instruction  on  the  moral  side  of  life. 
There  he  came  to  know  and  revere  the  Stoics, 
the  Puritans  of  their  time,  and  to  appreciate 
their  severe  virtues  without  following  their  scep- 
tical philosophy.  He  served  in  the  army  as  tribune 
of  a  legion.  Then  he  entered  upon  the  study  of 
law,  and  attained  conspicuous  success  in  that 
profession.  He  had  such  charm  of  speech  that  a 
crowded  courtroom  attended  upon  his  orations 
even  when  he  spoke  for  seven  uninterrupted 
hours.  In  the  intervals  of  his  legal  business,  he. 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  read  the  classics 
and  wrote  books,  which,  according  to  the  fashion 
of  the  time,  he  read  aloud,  as  he  did  his  speeches, 
to  his  friends.  He  wrote  letters,  which  were  after- 
wards published.  One  of  them  we  shall  find  in- 
teresting and  valuable  in  connection  with  the 
history  of  the  Christians.  He  was  made  governor 
of  the  province  of  Bithynia,  to  straighten  out  its 
tangled  finances.  He  lived  happily  with  his  wife, 
Calpurnia.  When  he  made  his  long  speeches  she 
had  relays  of  messengers  to  tell  her  how  the  argu- 
ment proceeded  from  point  to  point.  When  she 
was  absent  he  was  not  content  unless  he  had  two 

13 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

letters  from  her  every  day.  In  the  summer,  they 
went  to  one  of  their  places  in  the  cool  country, 
delighting  in  the  scenery,  and  in  the  progress  of 
the  farm.  In  his  native  place  by  Como,  he  paid  a 
third  of  the  expense  of  a  high  school,  and  endowed 
a  public  library. 

These  benefactions  were  characteristic  of  the 
time.  Partly  by  tradition,  partly  by  the  urging  of 
public  opinion,  the  patricians  exercised  a  splendid 
generosity.  The  Roman  millionaire  spent  a  great 
part  of  his  money  for  the  welfare  and  the  glory  of 
the  city.  The  extant  inscriptions  record  his  gifts, 
endlessly.  Now  he  built  an  aqueduct,  now  an 
arch;  here  he  endowed  a  temple,  there  a  public 
bath;  sometimes  he  paved  a  road,  sometimes  he 
provided  a  feast  for  all  the  citizens,  or  a  free  show 
of  gladiatorial  fighting.  Herod  Atticus,  who  died 
in  the  same  year  with  Marcus  Aurelius,  was  the 
most  liberal  benefactor  of  the  Roman  world.  To 
Olympus  he  gave  an  aqueduct,  to  Delphi  a  hippo- 
drome, to  Corinth  a  marble  theatre  roofed  with 
carved  cedar,  to  Thermopylae  a  bath  with  a  colon- 
nade. Money,  he  said,  is  to  be  used  for  the  com- 
mon good.  Gold  which  is  not  well  spent  is  dead. 

The  plebeians  included  all  of  the  free  popula- 
tion under  the  patrician  class.  They  were  of  all 
degrees  of  wealth  and  poverty. 

Many  of  the  wealthier  of  them  had  come  into 
14 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

the  Roman  world  as  slaves,  taken  in  war.  But 
the  wars  of  Rome  were  often  fought  with  nations 
who  were  superior  to  the  Romans  except  upon  the 
field  of  battle.  The  slaves  brought  back  from 
such  wars  were  more  intelligent,  much  more  cul- 
tivated and  in  the  higher  arts  of  life  more  able, 
than  their  masters.  The  Romans  put  them  in 
charge  of  their  estates  and  of  their  business.  The 
emperor  found  among  them  the  most  efficient 
public  servants,  whom  he  might  place  over  the 
departments  of  state.  Under  these  conditions 
many  slaves  purchased  their  liberty.  They  ap- 
plied themselves  to  trade,  to  commerce  by  land 
and  by  sea,  to  the  management  of  factories  and 
mills.  Some  of  them  grew  very  rich.  Some  of 
them  were  sore  beset  by  the  temptations  which 
lie  in  wait  for  those  who  have  suddenly  exchanged 
poverty  for  wealth,  being  millionaires  who  had 
no  traditions  and  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
their  money. 

Over  against  the  picture  of  the  patrician  Pliny 
we  may  set  the  picture  of  the  plebeian  Trimal- 
chio,  to  whose  famous  banquet  we  are  bidden  in 
Petronius's  novel,  the  "Satiricon."  Trimalchio  had 
been  brought  as  a  slave  from  Asia,  in  his  childhood. 
He  had  won  the  affection  of  his  master  and  mis- 
tress, and  had  inherited  their  property.  So  exten- 
sive were  his  investments  in  exports  and  imports 

15 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

that  a  single  storm  on  the  Mediterranean  had 
cost  him  a  million  dollars.  In  his  gorgeous  house 
were  four  vast  banqueting  halls.  His  bees  came 
from  Hymettus,  his  mushroom  spawn  from  India. 
He  owned  estates  which  he  had  never  seen.  Now 
he  gives  a  dinner.  One  course  represents  the  signs 
of  the  Zodiac.  Then  follows  a  boar,  served  whole, 
with  baskets  of  sweetmeats  hanging  from  his 
tusks;  in  rushes  a  huntsman  and  stabs  the  boar, 
and  out  fly  thrushes  which  are  caught  in  nets  as 
they  fly  about  the  room.  Then  the  ceiling  opens, 
and  down  comes  a  great  tray  filled  with  fruits  and 
sweets.  The  meal  is  accompanied  by  singing  and 
instrumental  music,  and  floods  of  wine.  Trimal- 
chio  is  a  man  of  letters,  and  a  poem  of  his  own 
composition  is  recited,  in  which  famous  heroes 
and  heroines  play  strange  parts.  Niobe  is  im- 
prisoned in  the  Trojan  horse,  Iphigenia  becomes 
the  wife  of  Achilles.  Rope  dancers  amuse  the  com- 
pany. Gradually,  wine  overcomes  the  hosts  and 
guests.  Slaves  come  in  and  take  their  places  at 
the  table,  while  the  cook  gives  an  imitation  of 
a  favorite  actor.  Trimalchio  and  his  wife  have  a 
lively  quarrel,  in  the  course  of  which  he  flings  a 
dish  at  her  head.  Finally,  the  noise  is  so  great 
that  the  town  watch  come  running  in  thinking 
that  the  house  must  be  on  fire. 
The  rich  plebeians  are  better  represented  by 
16 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

the  fine  tombs  which  they  built  for  themselves 
and  their  families,  whereon  they  caused  to  be 
inscribed,  like  armorial  bearings,  the  symbols  of 
their  honest  trades. 

But  most  of  the  plebeians  were  poor.  They- 
were  impoverished  in  part  by  the  extension  of 
patrician  estates  which  drove  men  from  the 
farms,  and  in  part  by  the  presence  of  a  vast 
population  of  slaves  by  whom  most  of  the  work 
of  the  community  was  done.  Even  for  such 
poor  folk  as  these,  however,  —  the  tenement 
lodgers  of  our  modern  cities,  —  there  were  pleas- 
ures in  the  civic  life.  The  public  baths  were  mu- 
nicipal club-houses.  There  were  marble  benches 
by  the  playing  fountains  along  the  shady  streets. 
There  were  numberless  fraternities,  some  of  them 
organized  on  the  basis  of  social  congeniality, 
some  on  the  basis  of  a  common  trade,  to  which  a 
poor  man,  even  a  slave,  might  be  admitted.  There 
were  public  dinners,  on  festal  occasions,  served  on 
tables  spread  in  the  streets  for  all  the  people.  The 
women  had  their  societies.  The  mothers'  clubs 
determined  the  fashions  and  the  social  behavior 
of  Rome. 

Among  the  public  pleasures  a  great  place  was 
held  by  the  plays  and  the  games.  The  theatre, 
which  among  the  Greeks  had  given  opportunity 
to  the  highest  genius  of  the  race,  was  mostly 

,17 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

abandoned  by  the  Romans  to  triviality  and  in- 
decency. The  plays  were  of  the  order  of  low-class 
vaudeville.  The  greatest  interest  centred  in  the 
amphitheatre.  When  Vespasian  built  the  Colos- 
seum he  made  forty-five  thousand  seats,  and 
there  was  standing  room  for  five  thousand  more. 
The  arena  could  be  planted  with  trees  for 
forest -fights  with  wild  beasts,  or  flooded  with 
water  for  battles  of  boats.  There  the  tragedies 
were  actual  tragedies.  The  spectacle  was  so 
fascinating  that  TertuUian,  in  order  to  keep  the 
Christians  from  attending  it,  promised  them  far 
more  delightful  spectacles  in  heaven  where  they 
should  look  down  upon  the  agonies  of  persecuting 
princes  and  hostile  heathen  roasting  in  the  flames 
of  hell.  And  Augustine  tells  of  a  friend  who  being 
urged  to  go  to  the  games  against  his  will  resolutely 
shut  his  eyes.  Instinctively  opening  them  at  the 
sound  of  a  great  cry,  he  could  not  get  them  shut 
again. 

Below  the  plebeians  were  the  slaves.  They 
made  a  great  part  of  the  population.  A  large 
house  might  have  four  hundred  of  them,  a  large 
estate  four  thousand.  By  some  they  were  regarded 
as  humble  friends;  some  doubted  whether  they 
had  human  souls.  They  were  in  some  measure 
protected  by  the  law,  but  well  into  this  period  of 
history  a  lady  might  have  her  slave  whipped  to 

18 


I 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

death  if  she  broke  a  mirror;  and  at  best  they  were 
in  the  bonds  of  servitude,  with  all  which  that 
inevitably  implies  on  both  sides,  for  the  slaves 
and  for  their  masters. 

IV 

The  Roman  world,  thus  constituted  politically 
and  socially,  was  filled  with  interest  in  religion. 
There  had  been  a  time  of  scepticism,  when  the 
sacred  institutions  of  Numa  had  been  discred- 
ited and  neglected.  The  philosophers  had  re- 
solved the  gods  into  ancient  heroes  magnified, 
or  into  personifications  of  the  powers  of  nature. 
The  temples  had  been  deserted  and  the  venerable 
liturgies  forgotten.  But  this  was  only  one  of  the 
ebb-tides  in  the  ever-moving  sea  of  human  life. 
The  years  of  spiritual  dearth  were  followed  by 
years  of  spiritual  plenty.  The  first  three  centuries 
of  the  Christian  era  were  marked  by  a  general 
enthusiasm  for  religion.  Christianity  began  in  the 
midst  of  a  religious  revival. 

One  of  the  manifestations  of  this  religious 
spirit  was  a  widespread  interest  in  Greek  phi- 
losophy. 

The  Epicureans,  indeed,  denied  the  essential 
propositions  of  religion  —  the  providence  of  God 
and  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  The  gods,  they 
said,  dwell  serenely  aloof  from  human  life,  having 

19 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

no  interest  in  our  concerns;  and  the  soul  is  perish- 
able. 

But  the  Stoics  vindicated  the  everlasting  re- 
ality of  religion.  They  believed  in  a  living  God, 
immanent  in  the  world.  All  things  are  therefore 
good,  and  the  wise  man  will  so  regard  them,  no 
matter  how  bad  they  seem  to  be.  "Everything," 
says  Marcus  Aurelius,  "is  harmonious  with  me 
which  is  harmonious  to  thee,  O  universe.  Nothing 
for  me  is  too  early  or  too  late,  which  is  in  due 
time  for  thee."  AJl  men  are  brethren,  having  one 
divine  father.  The  artificial  distinctions  which 
divide  society,  even  the  differences  which  appear 
in  nations  and  in  races,  have  no  real  existence. 
We  are  all  members  of  one  body.  It  is  the  divine 
intention  that  we  shall  love  one  another.  The 
highest  good  in  human  life  is  to  live  virtuously 
and  to  serve  our  neighbor.  Stoic  teachers  were 
going  about  making  converts  to  these  excellent 
doctrines,  preaching  sermons,  comforting  the  sad, 
directing  the  perplexed,  and  giving  counsel  to 
disturbed  consciences. 

Plutarch,  who  rejected  the  philosophy  of  the 
Epicureans  because  of  their  materialism,  and  the 
philosophy  of  the  Stoics  because  of  their  panthe- 
ism, believed  in  the  personality  of  God,  follow- 
ing the  revived  philosophy  of  Pythagoras.  The 
Pythagoreans   realized   the   difference   between 

20 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

good  and  evil,  attributing  evil  not  to  God  but 
to  matter.  Thus  they  distinguished  between  the 
spirit  and  the  flesh  in  man,  holding  that  the  spirit 
is  in  bondage  to  the  flesh  and  can  attain  its  free- 
dom only  by  abstinence  and  purification  and  the 
subduing  of  the  senses.  They  had  their  saints, 
by  whose  example  they  were  inspired.  While  the 
Christians  were  reading  the  lives  of  Christ,  the 
pagans  were  reading  the  lives  of  Pythagoras 
and  of  Apollonius  of  Tyana.  They  found  a 
place  for  all  the  ancient  gods,  who  entered  their 
monotheistic  system  as  angels  and  archangels. 

Another  manifestation  of  the  contemporary 
religious  interest  was  the  welcome  which  was 
given  in  the  Roman  world  to  religions  from  the 
East. 

From  Phrygia  came  the  religion  of  Cybele,  the 
Magna  Mater,  the  Mother  of  the  Gods.  Her 
Asiatic  priests  came  with  her,  bringing  their 
strange  language  and  strange  ceremonies,  wor- 
shipping a  meteoric  stone.  With  Cybele  came 
Attis,  a  god  who  being  violently  put  to  death  had 
come  to  life  again.  On  the  24th  of  March,  called 
Sanguis,  the  day  of  blood,  the  votaries  of  this 
religion  mourned  the  death  of  Attis,  as  the  He- 
brew women  in  the  vision  of  Ezekiel  had  mourned 
the  death  of  Tammuz.  They  lamented  with 
wild  cries,  and  horns  and  drums  and  flutes,  with 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

mad  dances.  On  the  25th  of  March,  called  Hi- 
laria,  they  celebrated  the  resurrection  of  Attis, 
with  rejoicings  equally  unrestrained,  with  feasts 
and  masquerades  and  revelry. 

From  Egypt  came  the  religion  of  Isis  and 
Osiris  (=Serapis).  After  a  baptismarinitiation, 
the  disciple  passed  through  successive  grades  of 
approach  to  a  central  secret  which  was  disclosed 
to  those  only  who  had  thus  made  themselves 
ready  to  receive  it.  Daily  services  of  litanies  and 
hymns,  matins  and  vespers,  following  immemorial 
usage,  attended  the  opening  and  the  closing  of 
the  shrine.  On  the  28th  of  October  was  enacted 
in  a  kind  of  passion  play  the  death  of  Osiris, 
killed  by  Set  the  god  of  evil,  with  weeping  and 
mourning.  Three  days  after,  the  lamentation 
was  changed  to  cries  of  joy:  "We  have  found  him, 
let  us  rejoice  together!"  Osiris  had  risen  from 
the  dead. 

These  religions,  together  with  that  of  Mithra, 
which  we  will  consider  later,  were  mystery  reli- 
gions. They  led  their  disciples  on  from  grade  to 
grade  till  they  were  taught  at  last  a  doctrine  too 
sacred  to  be  told  to  the  common  world.  This 
doctrine,  connected  with  the  nature  myth  of  the 
dying  and  reviving  god,  was  a  doctrine  of  redemp- 
tion. It  was  at  the  heart  of  these  religions  as  it 
was  also  at  the  heart  of  the  Orphic  mysteries 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

of  Dionysus,  and  of  the  Eleusinian  mysteries  of 
Demeter.  Attis,  Osiris,  Dionysus,  Demeter,  — 
each  is  a  god  who  dies,  and  rises  from  the  dead. 
Each  is  a  symbol  of  the  great  course  of  nature 
wherein  vegetation  dies  from  off  the  face  of  the 
earth  in  the  winter  and  appears  again  alive  in  the 
spring.  Each  represents  a  primitive  belief  that 
man  must  somehow  enact  this  necessary  order, 
by  his  mourning  and  rejoicing,  in  order  to  make 
sure  that,  after  the  winter,  spring  will  follow. 
Each  religion  lifted  this  physical  idea  to  a  spir- 
itual significance,  and  from  the  miracle  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  plants  inferred  the  miracle  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  body,  and  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.  These  were,  accordingly,  redemption 
religions,  helping  men  out  of  the  slavery  of  sin, 
and  promising  them  life  everlasting. 

But  the  philosophers  —  Epicurean,  Stoic,  Py- 
thagorean— and  the  priests,  with  their  mysteries 
from  Phrygia  and  Egypt,  touched  only  a  few  of 
the  people.  In  the  main  theJloman  world  con- 
tinued in  the  old  religion. 

The  old  religion  was  indeed  teacked  by  the 
influences  of  foreign  conquest.'  The  victors 
brought  back  in  triumph  to  Rome  not  only  the 
kings  of  .vanquished  peoples  but  their  gods.  It 
was  discovered  that  they  were  many  in  number, 
with  perplexing  similarities  and  dissimilarities. 

23 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Also  the  old  religion  was  attacked  by  the  invasion 
of  knoweldge.  The  boundaries  of  the  region  of 
mystery  in  which  the  gods  dwelt  were  set  back. 
The  world  was  better  understood.  It  was  per- 
ceived that  some  of  the  events  of  life  could  be  ex- 
plained by  other  reasons  than  those  which  were 
pronounced  by  priests. 

It  was  perceived,  also,  that  whole  tracts  of  life 
were  beyond  the  range  of  the  conventional  reli- 
gion, which  took  no  account  of  sin  and  made 
no  provision  for  salvation.  The  old  religion  was 
prosaic  and  practical.  The  purpose  of  it  was  to 
secure  the  favor  or  avert  the  anger  of  the  gods, 
and  this  was  done  by  mercantile  transactions  — 
so  much  paid  and  so  much  obtained  in  return. 
Spiritual  needs  were  not  considered,  spiritual 
blessings  were  not  asked  nor  desired.  The  con- 
tention between  light  and  darkness,  between 
summer  and  winter,  between  life  and  death, 
which  in  the  East  symbolized  the  contention 
between  good  and  evil  in  the  soul  of  man,  was 
indeed  represented  in  the  mythology  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  but  it  was  only  faintly  reflected  in 
religious  aspiration.  When  the  sense  of  sin  and 
the  consciousness  of  the  necessity  of  salvation 
awoke  in  the  Western  mind  they  found  no  satis- 
faction in  the  official  religion. 

Nevertheless,  the  ancient  ways  remained.  The 
.  24 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

creeds  and  rites  of  the  old  time  continued  to  be 
observed  by  ignorant  persons,  by  peasants  on 
farms  and  in  villages,  and  by  those  who  were 
naturally  conservative,  to  whom  any  change 
from  the  traditional  order  involved  the  probability 
of  some  sort  of  bad  luck.  They  continued  to  be 
observed  also  by  cultivated  persons,  by  whom 
they  were  associated  with  art  and  letters,  with  the 
refinements  of  society,  and  with  the  long  past. 
Among  these  people  the  ceremonies  of  religion 
were  family  customs,  connected  with  distin- 
guished and  revered  ancestors.  In  spite  of  all  the 
criticisms  of  sceptics,  and  the  discontent  of  de- 
vout souls,  the  old  religion  dominated  the  Roman 
world.  Christianity  found  it  everywhere  in  con- 
trol. Everywhere  it  pervaded  the  whole  of  life. 

It  was  a  domestic  religion,  associated  with 
every  detail  in  the  conduct  of  the  household.  The 
door  was  consecrated  to  Janus,  and  the  hearth 
to  Vesta.  The  house  was  under  the  protection  of 
the  Lares,  the  contents  of  it  were  guarded  by  the 
Penates.  Ceres  presided  over  the  growth  of  the 
grain ;  Flora  attended  to  the  blossoms,  and  Pomona 
to  the  fruit  in  the  orchard.  There  was  a  divinity 
for  every  act  of  life  from  birth  to  death.  And 
neglect  of  the  invocation  of  the  proper  god  at  the 
proper  time  was  likely  to  involve  serious  conse- 
quences. There  is  an  ancient  instinct,  which  we 

25 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

formally  discredit  and  call  superstition,  which 
whispers  to  the  soul  of  man  that  he  would  bet- 
ter do  what  his  fathers  did  before  him.  It  is 
one  of  the  silent  forces  which  they  who  were  con- 
verted out  of  paganism  had  to  defy.  When  things 
actually  did  go  wrong,  in  those  days  when  the 
relation  of  effect  to  cause  was  very  imperfectly 
perceived,  even  the  Christian  was  tempted  to 
think  that  the  old  gods  were  taking  their  re- 
venge. 

The  Roman  religion  pervaded  all  the  affairs  of 
business.  Not  only  were  the  transactions  of  ex- 
change and  barter,  the  occupations  of  industry, 
and  the  administration  of  law,  conducted  in  the 
language  of  religion,  under  the  patronage  of  the 
gods,  but  it  touched  all  manner  of  employment. 
With  its  shrines  and  temples  and  images  and  lit- 
urgies, it  engaged  the  services  of  the  mason,  the 
carpenter,  the  blacksmith,  the  goldsmith,  the 
weaver,  the  dyer,  the  embroiderer,  the  musician, 
the  sculptor  and  the  painter.  The  schoolmaster 
gave  instruction  in  its  sacred  books.  Sowing  and 
reaping  depended  on  it.  War  waited  for  it.  In  a 
time  when  fighting  was  considered  a  normal  part 
of  the  life  of  man,  and  the  army  was  the  most  im- 
portant institution  of  the  state,  the  site  of  every 
camp  was  marked  by  the  shrines  of  the  soldiers, 
and  the  captains  consulted  the  will  of  heaven  be- 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

fore  going  into  battle.  When  they  were  victori- 
ous, they  all  joined  in  a  public  thanksgiving  to  the 
gods.  Religion  entered  into  every  department  of 
civil  life.  Nobody  in  the  employ  of  the  govern- 
ment could  possibly  evade  it.  Every  office  had  its 
sacred  image.  Every  oath  was  taken  in  the  name 
of  the  gods.  Every  senator  as  he  entered  the  Sen- 
ate-house cast  grains  of  incense  into  the  fire  which- 
smouldered  before  the  statue  of  Victory. 

The  ancient  religion  included  in  its  province  all 
kinds  of  social  pleasure.  Its  well-filled  calendar 
abounded  in  festivals,  which  called  the  people  to- 
gether for  processions  and  sacred  feasts,  with 
lighting  of  lanterns  and  decoration  of  house-doors 
with  wreaths.  To  it  were  consecrated  the  theatre 
and  the  amphitheatre,  and  the  plays  and  games 
were  offered  to  the  gods,  like  the  sacrifices  on  the 
altars,  as  a  vital  part  of  religion;  the  idea  being 
that  the  gods  were  as  much  interested  in  athletic 
sports  as  men. 

To  break  with  the  Roman  religion  was  thus  to 
sever  one's  self  from  almost  the  entire  round  of  so- 
cial life.  Even  in  the  epistles  of  St.  Paul  we  see 
what  possible  compromises  might  be  involved  in 
accepting  an  invitation  to  dinner,  the  meat  of 
which  might  have  been  offered  to  an  idol.  What 
could  a  Christian  do  in  those  cities  where  there  was 
an  image  of  a  god  at  every  corner  of  the  street, 

27 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

and  where  the  entrance  into  every  shop  and  mar- 
ket, into  every  employment,  industrial,  civil  or 
military,  and  into  every  kind  of  amusement,  was 
through  some  sort  of  pagan  rite?  The  Christians 
stood  apart  from  the  common  life.  They  were  con- 
sidered by  their  perplexed  neighbors  to  be  enemies 
of  society. 

And  this  religion  was  not  only  thus  inclusive  and 
pervasive,  but  it  was  of  obligation.  The  emperor 
was  the  oflBcial  head  of  it,  and  was  himself  di- 
vine among  the  gods.  The  political  value  of  such  a 
doctrine  is  evident  enough,  and  it  did  not  seriously 
offend  men  in  those  days  when  even  the  greatest 
of  the  gods  were  hardly  more  than  human  beings 
magnified,  and  when  a  god  could  be  welcomed 
into  Rome,  or  else  expelled,  by  an  act  of  the  Sen- 
ate. The  emperor  was  the  embodiment  of  the  em- 
pire. The  worship  of  the  emperor,  which  consisted 
in  burning  incense  before  his  statue,  was  a  declara- 
tion of  allegiance.  Among  the  many  and  various 
religions,  East  and  West,  over  all  the  local  and 
provincial  cults,  this  was  the  one  universal  creed. 
Otherwise,  one  might  select  and  reject;  Rome  was 
tolerant  of  all  religious  differences;'  the  only  limit 
to  religious  liberty  was  the  law  which  forbade 
men,  in  the  zeal  of  their  own  creed,  to  deride  or 
assault  their  differing  neighbors.  But  the  em- 
peror must  be  worshipped  by  every  man:  that 
\  28 


THE  ROMAN  WORLD 

was  imperative.  To  refuse  this  worship  exposed 
the  Christian  to  the  charge  of  conspiracy  or 
treachery  against  the  state. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  such  a  world  —  political, 
social  and  religious  —  that  Christianity  appeared, 
a  strange,  unparalleled  and  menacing  phenome- 
non. The  world  received  it  with  instinctive  en- 
mity. The  new  religion  was  compelled  to  struggle 
for  its  life. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   STRUGGLE   FOR  LIFE 

AT  home,  among  tjieir  kinsfolk  and  acquaint- 
ance, the  Christians  were  met  with  im- 
mediate hostility.  They  were  put  out  of  the 
synagogues,  and  worse  punishments  were  visited 
upon  them. 

In  the  Roman  world,  they  were  at  first  treated 
with  contempt  and  aversion,  and  then  persecuted. 
The  persecution  increased  from  attacks  on  indi- 
viduals and  groups  to  concerted  municipal  and 
even  imperial  action  against  the  Christian  society. 
Twice  the  government  made  an  organized  at- 
tempt to  destroy  the  obnoxious  religion. . 


That  Christianity  should  have  been  thus  re- 
ceived in  the  Roman  world  is  remarkable,  because 
one  of  the  most  notable  characteristics  of  the 
church  was  its  benevolence,  and  one  of  the  most 
marked  characteristics  of  the  empire  was  its  tol- 
erance. 

The  church  was  a  benevolent  institution.  There 
is  indeed  a  benevolence  which  seeks  mainly  to  im- 
prove the  intellectual,  moral  and  spiritual  condi- 

30 


'  THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

tion  of  the  neighborhood.  It  endeavors  to  impose 
its  own  interests  and  enthusiasms  upon  those  who 
are  interested  in  other  aspects  of  life.  It  has  new 
standards,  and  calls  for  conformity  to  them.  It 
says,  You  must  be  like  us.  And  this  is  instinctively 
resented  by  the  neighbors,  who  hate  to  be  re- 
formed. But  the  benevolence  of  the  church  ap- 
peared in  the  effort  to  mitigate  conditions  which 
all  men  desire  to  have  changed.  The  Christians 
ministered  to  the  sick  and  to  the  poor. 

The  church  remembered  the  social  precepts 
and  example  of  Jesus  Christ.  His  constant  empha- 
sis on  the  supreme  value  of  brotherly  love  —  ex- 
tended not  only  to  the  least  of  human  creatures 
but  even  to  the  most  hostile  —  set  the  note  of 
the  ideal  life. 

Thus  the  first  recorded  act  of  the  Christian 
ministry  was  the  healing  of  the  sick,  when  Peter 
and  John  made  a  lame  man  to  walk,  at  the  Beauti- 
ful Gate  of  the  Temple.  Thereafter,  the  Christians 
did  that  kind  of  helpful  service  every  day.  It  was 
confessed  by  their  neighbors,  even  in  the  midst  of 
the  accusations  which  pronounced  the  Christians 
the  most  unsocial  of  all  people,  that  they  were  very 
kind  to  all  who  were  in  trouble.  It  was  perceived 
that  when  the  plague  came  the  Christians  stayed 
and  nursed  the  sick,  while  others  fled;  and  it  was 
seen  that  this  fraternal  care  was  bestowed  not 

31 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

only  on  the  brethren  in  the  society,  but  on  all 
who  needed  it,  without  distinction. 

The  first  recorded  act  of  the  Christian  congre- 
gation was  the  appointment  of  persons  to  attend 
to  the  feeding  of  poor  widows  in  Jerusalem.  There- 
after the  record  of  Christian  ministration  to  des- 
titute, overlooked  and  unprotected  persons  con- 
tinued without  interruption.  The  first  account  of 
a  Christian  service,  after  the  New  Testament,  is 
Justin  Martyr's  description  of  a  friendly  feast, 
sacramental  but  social,  at  which  a  collection  was 
made  for  the  assistance  of  the  poor.  The  church 
was  the  association  wherein  the  rich  and  the  poor 
met  together,  and  at  first,  as  in  Jerusalem,  had  all 
things  in  common.  St.  Paul  was  engaged  on  his 
missionary  journeys  not  only  in  the  preaching 
of  sermons  and  the  founding  of  churches,  but  in 
gathering  Gentile  money  for  the  support  of  poor 
Christians  in  Jerusalem.  ^ 

Not  only  was  the  church  devoted  to  the  prac- 
tice of  benevolence,  but  the  state  was  committed 
to  the  principle  of  tolerance.  The  pagan  state  was 
tolerant  of  religious  differences  to  an  extent  to 
which  the  Christian  state,  when  its  turn  came, 
showed  no  parallel  till  very  recent  times.  It  is 
true  that  in  the  reign  of  Tiberius  votaries  of  Isis 
were  expelled  from  Rome;  but  that  was  on  ac- 
count of  a  scandal.  It  is  true  that  the  Jews  were 

32 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

similarly  treated  in  the  time  of  Claudius;  but  that 
was  on  account  of  a  riot.  And  these  expelled  per- 
sons, after  a  decent  interval,  quietly  returned. 
Eclecticism,  as  a  free  choice  among  the  gods;  syn- 
cretism, as  a  combination  of  creeds;  mysticism,  as 
a  subordinating  of  all  forms  of  ritual  and  religion 
in  the  endeavor  to  find  God  in  direct  communion 
with  the  unseen,  were  characteristic  of  the  age. 
It  was  permitted  to  men  of  letters  to  ridicule  or 
deny  the  gods.  Courteous  consideration  was  given 
even  to  so  exclusive  a  religion  as  that  of  the  Jews. 
No  people  were  persecuted  for  their  religion, 
except  the  Christians. 

The  tolerant  state  persecuted  the  benevolent 
church  for  two  reasons:  first  on  account  of  a 
general  dislike,  then  on  account  of  an  increasing 
dread. 

Dislike  of  the  Christians  colors  the  earliest  ref- 
erences to  them  in  contemporary  writing.  It  ap- 
pears in  Tacitus,  in  his  history,  where  he  speaks 
of  the  Roman  Christians  in  the  reign  of  Nero 
(a.d.  64).  It  appears  also  in  Pliny,  in  his  letter 
concerning  the  Christians  of  Bithynia  in  the  reign 
of  Trajan  (113). 

In  the  history  of  Tacitus,  the  Christians  are  dis- 
liked on  the  ground  that  they  are  enemies  of  society. 

The  rumor  spread  in  Rome  that  the  great  fire 
which  destroyed  a  considerable  part  of  that  city 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

had  been  set  by  Nero.  He  was  notoriously  fond  of 
fires,  and  had  been  heard  to  say  that  if  the  world 
should  ever  burn,  as  some  predicted,  he  hoped 
that  he  might  be  alive  to  see  it.  And  he  was  the 
only  person  whom  the  conflagration  benefited.  It 
cleared  the  ground  for  extensive  building  opera- 
tions which  he  had  long  desired  to  undertake.  At 
last,  when  the  common  talk  began  to  take  on  an 
ugly  tone,  so  that  Nero  feared  a  mob,  it  seemed 
wise  to  divert  the  blame.  It  was  laid  upon  the 
Christians. 

The  Christians  were  exposed  to  such  a  charge 
because  they  were  "  queer."  They  were  unlike  their 
neighbors.  Thus  they  encountered  that  tremen- 
dous social  force  which  makes  for  uniformity. 
Society,  by  a  kind  of  instinct,  resents  the  asser- 
tion of  difference.  Even  to-day,  when  it  is  more 
hospitable  to  dissent  than  it  has  ever  been  since 
the  foundation  of  the  world,  it  still  insists  on  ob- 
servance of  the  common  customs.  Any  noncon- 
formist, in  dress  or  in  behavior,  is  immediately 
ridiculed.  Formerly  such  a  person  was  stoned,  or 
hanged,  according  to  the  degree  of  his  offence. 
The  Christians  were  queer.  They  stood  apart  from 
both  the  religion  and  the  recreation  of  their  neigh- 
bors: they  hated  the  images  which  all  other 
people  worshipped,  and  the  games  which  all  other 
people  enjoyed. 

S4 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

The  Christians  were  not  only  queer  but  mys- 
terious. They  met  in  private  houses,  secretly, 
under  cover  of  the  night.  Nobody  knew  how  many 
they  were,  and  ignorance  magnified  their  number 
into  portentous  proportions.  Nobody  knew  what 
they  did  when  they  met  together.  Thus  they 
were  easily  accused  of  abominable  practices. 
Vague  rumors,  beginning  with  mistaken  reports 
of  Christian  sacraments,  declared  that  they  put 
infants  to  death,  and  that  they  ate  human  flesh. 
Even^in  our  own  time  the  idea  of  ritual  murder 
makes  its  way  easily  from  one  to  another  in 
Russia,  and  is  believed  by  persons  who  are  other- 
wise intelligent. 

Therefore  Nero  put  the  blame  upon  the  Chris- 
tians. Many  were  arrested,  and  on  confession  that 
they  were  Christians  were  condemned.  Some  were 
sent  into  the  arena  to  be  torn  by  wild  beasts;  some 
were  smeared  with  pitch  and  made  to  serve  as 
flaming  torches  along  the  paths  of  the  imperial 
gardens.  This,  we  are  told,  continued  until  Rome 
was  weary  of  it.  In  a  city  accustomed  to  the  trage- 
dies of  the  games,  where  sympathy  was  dulled  by 
the  daily  spectacle  of  pain,  this  implies  some 
extended  space  of  time. 

The  charge  of  incendiarism  fell  to  the  ground, 
but  the  dislike  continued  and  increased.  Tacitus 
says  that  the  Christians  were  enemies  of  civiliza- 

35 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

tion,  being  filled  with  hatred  of  society  (odium  hu- 
mani  generis) .  From  that  time,  Christianity  was 
a  capital  offence.  There  seems  to  have  been  no  law 
to  that  effect,  but  a  precedent  was  established. 
The  cases  of  the  Christians  came  up  not  in  the 
civil  courts  but  in  the  police  courts,  and  were  dis- 
posed of  by  discretion  rather  than  by  legislation. 
From  the  year  64  a  Christian  was  exposed  to  ar- 
rest and  capital  punishment,  like  a  brigand  or 
a  pirate. 

In  the  letters  of  Pliny,  the  Christians  appear 
as  persons  obstructive  to  business. 

A  manuscript  came  to  light  in  Paris,  about 
A.D.  1500,  which  contained  the  correspondence  be- 
tween Pliny  and  Trajan.  It  was  seen  and  used  by 
a  number  of  persons  during  several  years,  when 
it  suddenly  disappeared  and  has  never  since  been 
found.  There  is  no  question  as  to  its  authenticity, 
but  its  appearance  and  disappearance,  like  the 
passing  light  of  a  comet,  show  how  little  we  know 
about  the  conditions  of  life  among  the  Christians 
in  the  beginning  of  the  second  century.  For  only 
in  the  pages  of  this  fleeting  manuscript  have  we  any 
information  concerning  the  distresses  of  the  Chris- 
tians in  Bithynia.  It  is  an  easy  inference  that 
there  were  a  hundred  similar  persecutions  about 
which  no  record  or  tradition  has  remained.  Even 
in  the  New   Testament  there  are  intervals  of 

36 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

silence,  so  that  nobody  knows,  for  example,  what 
St.  Paul  did  for  ten  years  after  his  conversion.  It 
is  as  if  we  were  reading  a  history  in  which  pages 
have  been  torn  out  by  the  handful.  There  was  a 
persecution  under  the  emperor  Domitian,  about 
95,  which  the  author  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
may  have  been  expecting  when  he  cited,  for  the 
inspiration  of  those  who  had  not  yet  resisted  unto 
blood,  the  examples  of  the  heroes  and  martyrs 
of  old  time;  it  may  have  been  the  distress  referred 
to  in  the  First  Epistle  of  Peter,  where  some  suf- 
fered not  as  a  thief  or  a  murderer,  but  "as  a 
Christian." 

Pliny  was  sent  out  as  governor  to  Bithynia  and 
parts  adjacent.  The  province  lay  east  of  what  we 
now  call  Constantinople,  and  north  of  the  Syria, 
Cilicia  and  Cappadocia  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles. 
It  formed  the  southern  shore  of  the  Black  Sea. 
There  had  been  much  mismanagement  of  gov- 
ernmental affairs  there,  especially  in  finance,  and 
Pliny  was  appointed  to  bring  the  confusion  into 
order.  In  going  about  the  country  on  this  errand, 
he  came  upon  the  Christians. 

He  found  so  many  of  them,  both  in  villages  and 
cities,  that  in  some  places  the  temples  were  de- 
serted. He  proceeded  against  them  on  the  basis  of 
information  brought  to  him,  and  according  to  the 
custom  which  had  prevailed  since  the  days  of  Nero. 

37 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

But  the  matter  was  complicated  by  two  consider- 
ations: in  part  by  the  fact  that  great  numbers 
of  persons  were  thus  incriminated,  especially  on 
charges  made  in  anonymous  letters;  and  in  part 
by  the  fact  that  some  who  were  accused  confessed 
that  they  had  once  been  Christians,  —  some  said 
twenty-five  years  ago,  —  but  had  long  since  re- 
pented of  that  error.  How  ought  such  cases  to  be 
treated?  And,  even  where  the  case  was  plain, 
what  ought  to  be  done  with  such  a  multitude  of 
offenders? 

Pliny  wrote  to  Trajan  for  instructions.  Shall  I 
punish  the  Christians  without  regard  to  age  or  so- 
cial station?  Shall  I  pardon  those  who  are  willing 
to  renounce  Christianity?  Shall  I  proceed  against 
the  Christians  as  Christians,  or  only  by  reason  of 
proved  offences?  Pliny  told  Trajan  what  he  had 
learned  from  peasants,  and  from  such  of  the  faith- 
ful as  he  had  examined  under  torture.  They  are 
harmless  people,  he  said,  who  meet  daily  to  sing 
hymns  to  Christ  as  to  a  god,  to  partake  of  a  com- 
mon meal  of  innocent  food,  and  to  bind  them- 
selves to  do  no  wrong.  He  remarked  incidentally 
that  dealers  in  fodder  for  animals  to  be  used  in  sac- 
rifice had  begun  to  return  to  their  business. 

Trajan  replied  that  obstinate  adherence  to  the 
Christian  name  must  be  punished  as  usual,  but 
that  nobody  is  to  be  sought  out,  or  arrested  on 

38 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

any  anonymous  accusation.  The  penitent,  he 
added,  may  be  pardoned. 

Pliny's  remark  about  the  fodder  suggests  the 
second  cause  of  the  general  dislike.  In  the  time 
of  Nero,  the  Christians  were  disliked  for  social 
reasons;  in  the  time  of  Trajan,  for  commercial 
reasons.  They  interfered  with  business.  The  fod- 
der-sellers of  Bithynia  objected  to  them,  like  the 
image-makers  of  Ephesus.  Behind  the  persecution 
of  the  Christians  in  the  Roman  Empire  there  were 
economical  causes,  —  trade  antagonism. 

To  the  dislike  with  which  the  Christians  were 
regarded  in  the  Roman  world  was  added,  as  a 
second  reason  for  their  persecution,  an  increasing 
dreadi  They  were  feared  by  the  two  extremes  of 
society, — by  the  poorest  and  most  ignorant  of  the 
people  on  the  one  side,  and  by  the  best  and  wisest 
on  the  other.  They  were  hated  alike  by  the  masses 
and  by  the  magistrates. 

The  dread  of  the  Christians  by  the  masses  was 
based  largely  on  superstition.  The  people  were  in 
fear  of  the  gods.  When  calamity  came  —  plague, 
earthquake,  fire,  flood,  defeat  in  battle  —  they 
saw  in  it  the  anger  of  the  gods.  This  was  the  uni- 
versal doctrine  of  the  ancient  world.  The  second 
century  was  a  time  of  unusual  disaster,  and  the 
third  was  little  better.  There  were  portents  in  the 
earth  and  in  the  sky  and  in  the  sun.   There  was 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

distress  of  nations  with  perplexity,  such  as  seemed 
to  indicate  that  end  of  all  things  which  was  pre- 
dicted in  the  Gospels.  To  the  general  mind  it  was 
plain  that  there  was  indignation  in  heaven.  The 
gods  were  sore  displeased. 

It  was  also  plain  that  the  Christians  were  the 
enemies  of  the  gods.  All  other  men  accepted  the 
current  theology.  The  philosophers,  indeed,  con- 
formed without  much  faith;  some  of  them  ridiculed 
the  gods.  And  the  Jews  conformed  from  motives 
of  prudence,  denying  the  existence  of  all  gods  but 
their  own,  but  making  no  serious  protest.  The 
only  non-conformists  were  the  Christians;  and 
theirs  was  an  aggressive  and  militant  non-con- 
formity. They  were  not  content  to  absent  them- 
selves from  the  temples  and  to  abstain  quietly 
from  recognition  of  the  divinities  of  Rome.  They 
vigorously  spoke  against  them.  They  boldly  de- 
nounced idolatry,  and  destroyed  idols.  They  were 
accounted  atheists  and  antagonists  of  the  gods. 

The  logic  of  the  situation  was  plain.  When  any 
community  was  visited  with  calamity  —  if  fire 
broke  out,  if  plague  appeared  —  the  blame  fell 
on  the  Christians.  They  had  provoked  it.  The 
gods  had  sent  it  because  of  Christian  impiety  and 
insult.  Let  the  Christians,  then,  suffer  for  their 
sins.  Let  the  angry  gods  be  pacified  by  Christian 
blood.   "The  Christians  to  the  lions !"j 

40 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

Even  the  magistrates  shared  in  the  dread  thus 
arising  from  superstition,  but  they  had  also  a  more 
serious  reason  for  alarm  in  the  political  situation. 
They  saw  the  essential  need  of  unity.  The  empire 
was  composed  of  conquered  provinces,  held  to- 
gether by  force  of  arms.  The  state  lived  in  contin- 
ual peril  of  revolution.  The  least  appearance  of  dis- 
affection must  be  met  with  immediate  restraint  by 
the  local  magistrate.  Even  the  assembling  of  small 
companies  of  men  in  associations  professedly  so- 
cial but  possibly  disloyal  was  forbidden  by  the 
government.  Pliny  asked  Trajan  to  permit  the 
organization  of  a  fire  company  at  Nicomedia,  but 
Trajan  refused.  He  was  willing  to  provide  im- 
proved apparatus,  but  he  would  not  let  the  men 
hold  meetings.  The  incident  shows  the  nervous- 
ness of  the  administration. 

The^  empire  was  in  peril  not  only  from  revolt 
but  from  invasion.  Along  the  frontiers  were  power- 
ful enemies,  civilized  and  uncivilized,  waiting  on 
any  appearance  of  weakness  to  break  the  bar- 
rier. The  situation  demanded  unfailing  loyalty. 
Any  civil  strife  might  bring  the  empire  to  de- 
struction. 

Thus  we  may  understand  the  possibility  of  such 
a  tragedy  as  the  massacre  of  the  Theban  Legion. 
In  the  latter  part  of  the  third  century  (268)  there 
was  a  peasants'  war  in  Gaul.  The  peasants  arose 

41 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

against  the  landlords  and  burned  their  houses. 
Thus  they  protested  against  the  situation  which 
had  become  intolerable.  The  emperor  Maximian, 
whom  Diocletian  had  made  his  colleague  in  the 
West,  marched  with  an  army  to  put  the  peasants 
down.  Before  the  battle,  the  emperor  summoned 
the  army  to  pray  for  victory;  that  is,  he  directed 
the  observance  of  certain  rites  appealing  to  the 
Roman  gods.  The  Theban  Legion,  which  was  com- 
posed of  Christians,  refused  to  take  part  in  these 
prayers.  The  emperor  directed  that  the  legion 
should  be  decimated.  But  the  killing  of  a  tenth 
of  the  men  did  not  dismay  the  others,  and  again 
the  legion  was  decimated,  and  so  on  till  it  was  de- 
stroyed. The  story  may  not  be  true,  but  it  illus- 
trates the  state  of  mind  of  Roman  generals  who 
found  soldiers  in  the  ranks  whose  Christian  con- 
sciences forbade  them  to  obey  orders. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  tolerant  state  persecuted 
the  benevolent  church.  The  Christians  were  dis- 
liked, for  reasons  partly  social  and  partly  com- 
mercial; and  they  were  dreaded  as  being  hostile 
both  to  the  gods  and  to  the  empire.  And  they  were 
continually  increasing.  Nobody  knew  how  many 
they  were.  Nobody  knew  where  the  evil  might 
next  appear,  perhaps  in  his  own  family.  Chris- 
tianity seemed  like  a  contagious  disease,  like  a 
plague  whose  nature  was  not  understood  and  for 

42 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

whicli  there  was  no  remedy,  in  the  face  of  whose 
silent  and  secret  progress  men  grew  desperate.  I 
Moreover,  the  Christians  invited  intolerance  by 
their  own  intolerant  position.  The  religious  liberty 
of  the  empire  had  only  two  limitations.  It  was 
required  that  everybody  should  leave  his  neigh- 
bor's religion  alone;  it  was  also  required  that 
everybody  should  pay  to  the  official  religion  — 
especially  as  represented  by  the  image  of  the 
emperor  —  the  decent  respect  of  outward  con- 
formity. The  Christians  defied  these  limitations. 
They  declared,  both  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
that  all  religions  but  their  own  were  false;  and  they 
refused  to  render  even  the  outward  form  of  rever- 
ence for  the  emperor's  image  as  a  symbol  of  the 
state.  Publicly  and  persistently  they  invited  en- 
mity, as  the  outspoken  enemies  of  all  the  religions 
of  their  neighbors. 


The  age  of  persecution  includes  first  a  period 
of  local  attack.  Now  in  one  place  and  now  in  an- 
other, arising  for  the  most  part  from  the  dislike 
and  dread  of  the  masses  of  the  people.  A  public 
calamity  was  likely  to  be  visited  upon  the  Chris- 
tians. Then  follows  a  period  of  general  attack,  in 
the  time  of  Decius  and  Valerian,  (in  the  middle  of 
the  third  century),  and  in  the  time  of  Diocletian 

43 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

and  Galerius  (in  the  beginning  of  the  fourth). 
On  each  of  these  occasions  the  Christians  were 
under  the  ban  of  imperial  decrees  by  which  the 
government  was  endeavoring  to  destroy  them. 
The  purpose  was  to  maintain  the  unity  of  the 
empire. 

An  adequate  history  of  the  age  of  persecution 
will  never  be  written.  It  is  as  impossible  as  to 
write  an  adequate  history  of  the  distress  and  trag- 
edy of  any  war.  Certain  general  facts  may  be  set 
down,  certain  figures  may  be  added  up :  so  many 
martyred  here  and  there  and  in  such  and  such  in- 
human ways,  —  so  many  slain  with  the  sword,  so 
many  burned  with  fire,  so  many  stoned  to  death, 
so  many  frozen  with  cold,  so  many  starved  with 
hunger,  so  many  drowned  in  the  sea,  so  many 
scourged  with  whips,  so  many  stabbed  with  forks 
of  iron,  so  many  fastened  to  the  cross.  Even  on  the 
statistical  side  the  record  is  incomplete.  But  if  we 
were  to  multiply  the  figures  by  two  or  by  five,  still 
we  should  be  dealing  only  with  the  pains  of  body. 
We  should  miss  the  vital  facts  of  faith  and  cour- 
age and  self-sacrifice  and  glad  devotion  which 
made  the  martyrdoms  significant. 

Out  of  the  general  terror,  however,  there  are 
stories  which  illuminate  the  darkness.  Some- 
times when  the  martyr  was  a  person  of  more  than 
usual  importance,  or  the  torture  was  more  fierce, 

44 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

or  the  courage  was  more  fine  than  usual,  some  who 
stood  by  wrote  a  record,  and  the  narrative,  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  and  read  in  secret  meetings 
of  the  Christians,  remains  for  us  to  read  to-day. 

Ignatius  was  bishop  of  Antioch  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  second  century,  while  Pliny  was  in 
Bithynia.  Under  circumstances  of  which  we  are 
not  informed,  he  was  arrested  and  condemned, 
and  sent  to  be  put  to  death  at  Rome.  He  seems  not 
to  have  possessed  the  privilege  of  Roman  citizen- 
ship, else  he  might  have  been  exempt  from  that 
form  of  punishment.  A  sentence  in  one  of  his  let- 
ters suggests  that  he  may  even  have  been  a  slave 
before  he  became  a  bishop.  Such  a  social  position 
would  have  been  in  accord  with  the  conditions 
under  which  the  church  was  then  recruited,  and 
would  have  expressed  its  splendid  disregard  of  the 
artificial  divisions  of  society.  The  bishop  was  to 
be  exposed  to  wild  beasts  in  the  games  of  the  Colos- 
seum. He  was  put  in  charge  of  a  company  of  ten 
soldiers,  who,  he  says,  made  the  whole  journey  a 
long  martyrdom.  Thus  they  traversed  the  coun- 
try by  the  road  which  ran  from  Antioch  to  Troas, 
across  the  length  of  Asia  Minor ;  thence  to  Phi- 
lippi,  and  so  by  land  and  sea  to  Rome. 

It  was  a  very  humble  and  pathetic  triumphal 
procession.  In  every  town  the  Christians  met  the 
martyr,  and  ministered  to  him,  and  from  neigh- 

45 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

boring  places,  off  the  line  of  the  journey,  the 
churches  sent  delegations  of  devout  people  with 
messages  of  faith  and  sympathy.  In  two  cities, 
on  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  towards  Europe  —  in 
Smyrna  and  in  Troas  —  he  stayed  long  enough 
to  write  letters.  In  Smyrna,  he  wrote  to  those  of 
the  churches  whose  messengers  had  met  him  — 
the  Ephesians,  the  Trallians,  the  Magnesians  — 
and  a  fourth  letter  to  the  church  of  the  city  which 
was  his  journey's  end,  —  the  Romans.  In  Troas, 
he  wrote  three  letters,  two  to  churches  which  he 
had  visited,  in  Philadelphia  and  Smyrna,  and  one 
to  the  bishop  of  Smyrna,  named  Poly  carp.  Other 
letters  were  added  to  this  list  by  the  zeal  or  error 
of  a  later  time,  but  these  seven  are  authentic. 

The  letters  show  a  keen  sense  of  the  perils  of 
division.  It  was  reported  to  Ignatius,  as  it  had 
already  been  reported  to  St.  Paul  from  Corinth, 
that  there  was  disagreement  among  the  Christians. 
Even  in  the  face  of  persecution,  when  all  their 
strength  was  needed  against  a  common  enemy, 
they  were  contending  among  themselves.  This 
was  due  in  part  to  the  novelty  of  the  situation. 
The  new  churches  were  formulating  their  faith 
and  organizing  their  life  by  the  process  of  experi- 
ment. Such  a  process  involved  discussion,  and 
discussion  disclosed  the  inevitable  differences 
which  belong  to  human  nature.   Some  men  were 

46 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

conservative,  some  were  progressive.  A  new  sense 
of  freedom  increased  the  eagerness  of  these  de- 
bates. 

Against  the  individualism  thus  appearing,  Ig- 
natius protested.  In  the  strongest  language  he 
urged  the  people  to  stand  together,  to  subordinate 
their  differences,  and  to  be  loyal  to  their  bishops. 
"Obedience  to  the  bishop,"  he  said,  "is  obedience 
to  God."  "We  ought  to  regard  the  bishop  as 
the  Lord  himself."  "Do  nothing  apart  from  the 
bishop."  "He  who  does  anything  apart  from  the 
bishop  serves  the  devil . ' '  These  vigorous  sentences 
provided  material  in  later  years  for  the  use  of 
churchmen  in  controversy  with  their  brethren 
who  were  in  a  state  of  schism.  But  the  intention 
of  Ignatius  was  practical  rather  than  ecclesiasti- 
cal. The  bishop  as  the  pastor  of  the  church  was 
the  appointed  leader  of  the  congregation.  He  was 
the  natural  centre  of  the  unity  of  the  people.  Their 
progress,  even  their  existence,  depended  on  the 
strength  of  the  united  brotherhood. 

The  chief  interest  of  the  martyr,  however,  was 
in  his  approaching  martyrdom.  He  wrote  to  the 
Romans  begging  that  they  would  not  intercede 
for  him,  nor  try  to  save  him.  "Grant  me  nothing 
more  than  that  I  may  be  poured  out  a  libation  to 
God."  "  Come  fire,"  he  cried,  "  and  iron,  and  grap- 
plings  with  wild  beasts,  cuttings  and  manglings, 

47 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

wrenching  of  bones,  breaking  of  limbs,  crushings  of 
the  whole  body;  come  cruel  tortures  of  the  devil  to 
assail  me!  Only  be  it  mine  to  attain  unto  Jesus 
Christ."  "I  write  you  in  the  midst  of  life,  eagerly 
longing  for  death." 

With  these  seven  letters,  thus  illuminating  for  a 
moment  the  way  on  which  he  went  rejoicing  to  his 
death,  the  saint  goes  forward  on  his  journey  and  is 
seen  no  more.  Polycarp  sent  copies  of  some  of 
them,  perhaps  of  all,  to  the  Christians  of  Philippi, 
at  their  request.  Thus  they  were  preserved.  Then 
on  some  Roman  holiday,  in  the  crowded  Colos- 
seum, Ignatius  was  devoured  by  beasts. 

Polycarp,  the  bishop  of  Smyrna  to  whom  Igna- 
tius wrote,  was  bom  about  a.d.  69,  the  year  before 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  He  spent  his  youth 
in  Ephesus,  the  city  which  for  a  time  after  the  fall 
of  Jerusalem  became  the  centre  of  Christian  life 
and  activity.  Tradition  finds  St.  Philip  near  by, 
in  Hierapolis,  and  locates  the  closing  years  of 
St.  John  in  Ephesus  itself.  Polycarp  would  have 
been  about  thirty  years  old  when  St.  John  died. 

To  Polycarp,  Ignatius  wrote  with  affection,  giv- 
ing him  encouragement  and  counsel,  as  an  elder 
brother  to  a  younger.  "Be  diligent,"  he  said,  "be 
diligent.  Be  sober  as  God's  athlete.  Stand  like  a 
beaten  anvil." 

Among  the  disciples  of  Polycarp  at  Smyrna 
48 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

were  two  young  men,  Irenseus  and  Florinus. 
Florinus  afterwards  fell  into  heresy  and  Irenseus, 
who  by  that  time  had  become  bishop  of  Lyons, 
wrote  to  dissuade  him.  In  the  course  of  his  admo- 
nitions he  reminded  Florinus  of  their  old  teacher. 
"I  can  tell,"  he  said,  "the  very  place  in  which  the 
blessed  Polycarp  used  to  sit  when  he  discoursed, 
and  his  manner  of  life,  and  his  personal  appear- 
ance, and  the  discourses  which  he  held  before  the 
people,  and  how  he  would  describe  his  intercourse 
with  John  and  the  rest  of  those  who  had  seen  the 
Lord,  and  how  he  would  relate  their  words.  And 
whatsoever  things  he  had  heard  from  them  about 
the  Lord  and  about  his  miracles  or  about  his  teach- 
ing, Polycarp,  as  having  received  them  from  eye- 
witnesses of  the  life  of  the  Word,  would  relate 
altogether  in  accordance  with  the  Scriptures.  .  .  . 
And  I  can  testify  in  the  sight  of  God  that  if  that 
blessed  and  apostolic  elder  had  heard  anything 
of  the  kind,  [i.e.,  such  as  Florinus  was  foolishly 
maintaining]  he  would  have  cried  out,  and  stopped 
his  ears,  and  would  have  said  after  his  wont,  *0 
good  God,  for  what  times  hast  thou  kept  me,  that 
I  should  endure  these  things,'  and  would  have 
fled  from  the  very  place  where  he  was  sitting  or 
standing  when  he  heard  such  words." 

Irenseus  remembered  also  concerning  Polycarp 
that  one  day  meeting  the  heretic  Marcion  in  the 

49 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

street  in  Rome,  Marcion  said,  "Don't  you  recog- 
nize me,  bishop?  "  and  Polycarp  replied,  "Indeed 
I  do,  I  know  you  very  well;  you  are  the  first-born 
of  Satan!" 

These  incidents  attribute  to  the  saint  a  narrow 
mind  and  a  hasty  temper,  and  disclose  a  disposi- 
tion to  meet  error  by  the  easy  but  entirely  ineffec- 
tive method  of  abusing  the  heretic  rather  than  by 
the  difficult  but  only  convincing  method  of  reason- 
ing with  him  fairly.  The  impression  which  they 
make  upon  the  modern  mind  is  somewhat  miti- 
gated by  the  story  of  the  dealings  of  Polycarp 
with  Anicetus,  bishop  of  Rome.  The  two  bishops 
represented  the  two  parts  of  the  Roman  world, 
Greek  and  Latin,  East  and  West.  They  conferred 
as  to  the  true  date  of  Easter.  According  to  the 
common  usage  of  both  East  and  West,  the  date  of 
Easter  was  decided  by  the  Jewish  Passover,  and 
the  Passover  was  determined  by  the  vernal  equi- 
nox, and  the  equinox  was  the  day  of  the  month 
which  the  Jews  called  the  fourteenth  of  Nisan, 
and  which  the  Christians  called  the  twenty-first 
of  March.  The  full  moon  after  the  equinox  marked 
the  day  of  the  Passover.  The  Eastern  Christians 
kept  Easter  on  that  day,  whether  it  was  a  Sun- 
day or  not;  it  might  be  a  Monday  or  a  Friday. 
The  Western  Christians  waited  for  a  Sunday. 
Polycarp  informed  Anicetus  that  the  Eastern  cus- 

50 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

torn  was  authorized  by  the  word  of  St.  John  him- 
self. The  apostolic  precedent  was  entirely  on  his 
side.  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  this  argument 
made  no  impression  upon  the  mind  of  Anicetus. 
He  liked  the  new  way  better;  the  argument  from 
authority  did  not  greatly  appeal  to  him.  The 
bishops,  however,  agreed  to  disagree.  Neither 
could  convince  the  other,  but  neither  carried  the 
disagreement  to  the  extreme  of  excommunica- 
tion. The  bishop  of  Smyrna  celebrated  the  holy 
communion  at  the  altar  of  the  bishop  of  Rome, 
and  returned,  leaving  his  blessing. 

At  last  in  Smyrna,  at  a  festival  season,  the  pro- 
consul —  the  Asiarch  —  being  present  and  pre- 
siding at  the  games,  a  number  of  Christians  were 
arrested,  for  some  cause  unknown,  and  were  or- 
dered to  immediate  execution.  They  were  ex- 
posed to  the  lions,  in  the  amphitheatre.  A  cry 
arose  for  Poly  carp,  and  mounted  police  found  him 
in  his  country-place,  and  took  him  to  the  city.  On 
the  way  the  chief  of  police  met  him,  the  brother 
of  an  eminent  and  devout  woman  in  the  bishop's 
congregation.  He  took  Poly  carp  into  his  chariot, 
and  tried  in  a  friendly  way  to  persuade  him  to  offer 
incense  in  order  to  conciliate  the  mob,  but  to  no 
purpose.  Then,  losing  his  temper,  he  threw  the  old 
man  out  into  the  road.  The  stadium  was  crowded 
when  the  guards  arrived  with  Poly  carp,  and  a 

51 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

great  roar  of  hostile  shouting  greeted  him.  But  he 
heard  a  steady  voice  saying,  "Polycarp,  be  strong 
and  play  the  man."  The  proconsul  urged  him  to 
give  up  his  foolish  faith  and  abandon  his  disciples. 
"Disown  them,"  said  the  proconsul,  "cry,  *  Away 
with  the  atheists!'"  And  this  the  martyr  did, 
facing  the  crowd,  and  crying,  "Away  with  the 
atheists!"  but  it  was  plain  that  he  and  the  pro- 
consul meant  quite  different  persons.  "Come," 
said  the  judge,  "revile  Christ,  and  you  shall  go 
free."  Poly  carp  answered  in  words  which  have 
never  been  forgotten,  "Fourscore  and  six  years 
have  I  served  Him,  and  He  hath  done  me  no  wrong. 
How  then  can  I  speak  evil  of  my  King  who  saved 
me  ?  "  Then  in  the  arena  they  heaped  wood  to- 
gether, and  tied  him  to  a  stake,  and  burned  him. 
And  the  faithful  gathered  his  charred  bones  to- 
gether, and  laid  them  up  as  sacred  treasures,  — 

Assured  the  fiery  trial,  fierce  though  fleet. 
Would  from  his  little  heap  of  ashes  lend 
Wings  to  the  conflagration  of  the  world. 

When  Irenseus,  the  disciple  of  Polycarp,  became 
bishop  of  Lyons,  he  took  the  place  of  Pothinus 
who  with  others  of  his  flock  had  been  put  to  death 
for  loyalty  to  the  name  of  Christ.  In  Pater's  "  Ma- 
rius  the  Epicurean"  (pp.  421-426)  the  hero  of  the 
book  coming  in  the  dark  of  the  early  morning  to 
a  celebration  of  the  sacrament,  hears  a  reading 

52 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

of  the  letter  in  which  the  survivors  of  the  per- 
secution in  Lyons  described  the  tragedy  to  the 
churches. 

The  common  hatred  of  the  Christians  had  been 
increasing  in  Lyons,  and  they  were  insulted  in  the 
streets.  A  rumor,  generally  believed,  accused  them 
of  abominable  crimes,  especially  declaring  that 
they  followed  the  example  of  CEdipus,  who  had 
married  his  own  mother,  and  of  Thyestes,  who 
had  eaten  his  children.  The  conditions  were  such 
as  have  preceded,  in  our  day,  the  massacre  of 
Jews  in  Russia.  Christians  were  hooted,  stoned 
and  beaten.  Then,  in  the  absence  of  the  Roman 
governor,  some  were  imprisoned  until  his  return. 
He  caused  them  to  be  examined  with  tortures  so 
cruel  as  to  call  out  a  public  protest  from  one  of 
the  brethren,  Vettius  Epagathus,  a  man  of  distinc- 
tion in  the  city,  who  asked  to  be  permitted  to 
testify  that  "there  is  among  us  nothing  ungodly 
or  impious."  He  was  thereupon  thrust  into 
prison  with  the  others.  The  examination  of  certain 
pagan  slaves  of  Christian  masters  added  to  the 
popular  fury,  for  they  declared  that  all  the  accu- 
sations were  founded  upon  fact. 

The  wrath  of  the  people,  and  of  the  governor, 
fell  with  special  force  upon  Sanctus,  a  deacon  from 
the  neighboring  town  of  Vienne,  and  upon  Blan- 
dina,  a  slave  girl,  weak  in  body  but  invincible  in 

63 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

spirit.  They  were  tortured  until  their  continuance 
in  life  seemed  miraculous.  Finally  Sanctus  was 
roasted  in  the  arena  in  an  iron  chair,  and  Blan- 
dina,  thrown  in  a  net  before  a  wild  bull,  was  gored 
and  trampled  to  death.  Attains,  having  been  led 
around  the  arena  with  the  inscription,  "This  is 
Attains  the  Christian,"  was  burned  in  the  chair; 
and  Ponticus,  a  boy  of  fifteen  years,  died  after  "the 
entire  round  of  torture. "  These  all  agreed  in  cry- 
ing in  the  midst  of  their  pain,  "I  am  a  Christian, 
and  no  evil  is  done  amongst  us."  The  bishop 
Pothinus,  being  ninety  years  of  age,  died  in  prison, 
after  being  beaten  by  a  mob.  The  bodies  of  the 
martyrs  were  burned  to  ashes,  and  the  ashes  were 
swept  into  the  Rhone. 

A  little  later,  in  the  beginning  of  the  third  cen- 
tury, occurred  the  martyrdom  of  Perpetua  and 
Felicitas.  This  took  place  in  Carthage,  when 
Septimius  Severus  was  emperor  of  Rome,  and  at 
a  time  when  the  birthday  of  his  son  Geta  was 
being  celebrated.  The  narrative  appears,  for  the 
most  part,  in  the  words  of  Perpetua  herself.  She 
was  a  lady  of  good  birth  and  education,  twenty- 
two  years  old,  married,  and  having  an  infant  son. 
Felicitas  was  a  slave  girl.  They  were  arrested, 
with  other  young  people,  while  they  were  receiving 
Christian  instruction,  not  yet  having  been  bap- 
tized.   Perpetua's  father,  a  man  of  gray  hairs, 

54 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

begged  her  day  after  day,  for  his  sake,  and  for  her 
child's  sake,  to  deny  the  Christian  name.  And 
these  importunities  added  to  her  distress.  But  she 
continued  constant.  One  night,  in  the  prison,  she 
dreamed  that  she  saw  a  golden  ladder  reaching 
up  to  heaven,  having  sharp  weapons  fastened  to 
the  sides,  and  underneath  a  great  dragon,  "who 
lay  in  wait  for  those  who  ascended,  and  frightened 
them  from  the  ascent."  Up  this  she  climbed, 
setting  her  feet  on  the  head  of  the  dragon,  and 
came  into  a  garden  where  one  in  white,  dressed 
as  a  shepherd,  bade  her  welcome.  Saturus,  the 
teacher,  was  devoured  in  the  arena  by  a  leopard; 
Perpetua  and  Felicitas  were  tossed  and  gored  in 
nets. 

ni 

If  now  we  multiply  these  four  stories  indefi- 
nitely, to  the  fury  of  the  masses  add  the  deliber- 
ate policy  of  the  magistrates,  and  extend  the  time 
over  a  space  of  ten  years  twice,  we  get  an  idea  of 
the  two  general  persecutions,  the  Decian  and  the 
Diocletian. 

The  Decian  persecution  began  in  the  middle 
of  the  third  century.  The  empire  had  been  cele- 
brating the  thousandth  anniversary  of  the  found- 
ing of  Rome  (a.d.  248).  It  was  an  occasion  which 
summoned  all  patriotic  and  reflective  persons  to 

55 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

compare  the  present  with  the  past.  The  compari- 
son gave  no  ground  for  satisfaction.  Roman  power 
was  failing,  Roman  character  was  degenerating. 
To  the  fear  of  the  Goths  was  added  the  fear  of 
the  Persians.  The  emperor  Decius,  coming  to  the 
throne  in  these  evil  times,  felt  that  the  first  step 
toward  a  restoration  of  the  Roman  valor  was 
a  revival  of  the  fine  old  Roman  virtues,  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  best  way  to  bring  back 
the  old  victorious  virtues  was  to  restore  the  old 
religion.  To  this,  accordingly,  he  addressed  him- 
self, and  began  his  campaign  of  reform  with  a 
resolute  attempt  to  destroy  what  he  considered  to 
be  the  chief  obstacle  in  the  way  of  this  pious  res- 
toration. Following  what  seemed  to  him  the  com- 
mands of  conscience,  and  acting  in  the  sincere 
spirit  of  patriotism,  honestly  desiring  to  do  what 
was  best  for  the  empire  over  which  he  ruled,  he 
endeavored  to  eliminate  the  Christian  Church. 

The  imperial  decree  called  upon  all  persons  to 
declare  their  loyalty  to  the  Roman  religion  by 
offering  sacrifice.  After  a  long  period  of  general 
peace,  during  which  many  had  become  Christians 
conventionally,  without  individual  conviction, 
the  decree  was  answered  by  the  submission  of 
multitudes.  Some  cast  incense  on  the  altar  will- 
ingly; some  came  so  pale  and  trembling  that  "the 
crowd  mocked  them  as  plain  cowards  who  dared 

60 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

neither  die  nor  sacrifice."  Some  purchased  certi- 
ficates to  the  effect  that  they  had  comphed  with 
the  decree,  though  they  had  not,  and  the  word 
libellus,  signifying  such  a  certificate,  gave  to  these 
persons  the  name  libellatics,  by  which  they  were 
unfavorably  known  after  the  persecution  was 
over.  Hardly,  however,  had  these  troubles  fairly 
begun,  when  Decius  went  to  fight  the  Goths,  and 
was  killed  in  battle. 

Valerian,  the  successor  of  Decius,  continued  the 
persecution.  A  man  of  advanced  years,  and  of 
blameless  life,  a  friend  of  Christians,  he  saw  the 
empire  beset  on  every  side  by  powerful  enemies. 
He  saw  that  the  only  safety  lay  in  united  strength. 
He  had  reason  to  suspect  the  loyalty  of  the  Chris- 
tians; at  least,  there  were  some  among  them  who 
were  eagerly  anticipating  the  ruin  of  the  empire. 
Commodian,  in  his  "Carmen  Apologeticum "  was 
watching  for  the  end  of  the  world.  "Soon  the 
Goths  will  burst  across  the  Danube,  and  with 
them  comes  Apollyon  their  king  to  put  down  by 
arms  the  persecution  of  the  saints.  Rome  is  cap- 
tured. Goths  and  Christians  are  as  brethren."  ^ 
Accordingly,  the  good  Valerian  carried  on  the 
contention  which  the  good  Decius  had  begun. 
To  the  demand  that  every  Christian  should  re- 
nounce his  religion  by  offering  sacrifice,  he  added 

*  Gwatkin,  Church  History^  i,  258. 
57 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

a  prohibition  of  Christian  meetings,  even  in  the 
catacombs. 

Then  when  Xystus,  bishop  of  Rome,  defied  the 
decree  by  publicly  transferring  to  the  catacombs 
the  bodies  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  the  tragedy 
began.  The  bishop  of  Rome  was  martyred  in  the 
catacombs.  Cyprian,  bishop  of  Carthage,  was 
beheaded.  The  sentence  which  was  pronounced 
upon  Cyprian  expresses  the  mind  of  the  persecu- 
tion. "  Your  life,  Cyprian,  has  long  been  a  life  of 
sacrilege;  you  have  gathered  around  you  many 
accomplices  in  your  criminal  designs;  you  have 
set  yourself  up  as  an  enemy  to  the  gods  of  Rome 
and  to  their  sacred  rites;  nor  have  the  pious 
and  deeply  revered  emperors  Valerian  and  Gallie- 
nus  been  able  to  bring  you  back  to  their  religion. 
Therefore,  as  the  upholder  of  a  great  crime,  as  the 
standard-bearer  of  the  sect,  I  must  now  make  an 
example  of  you  in  the  presence  of  your  associates 
in  guilt.  The  laws  must  be  sealed  with  your  blood. 
Our  sentence  therefore  is  that  Thascius  Cypri- 
anus  be  put  to  death  with  the  sword." 

That  was  in  258.  Two  years  later,  Valerian  in 
defeat  was  captured  by  the  Persians,  and  was 
never  seen  again.  The  persecution  was  thus  con- 
eluded.  It  had,  indeed,  disclosed  at  the  beginning 
a  shameful  number  of  Christians  whose  religion 
had  no  serious  significance,  but  it  had  finally 

68 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

shown  a  strength  in  the  church  which  the  whole 
power  of  the  state  had  not  been  able  to  subdue. 

The  Diocletian  persecution  fell  upon  the  Chris- 
tians in  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century,  after 
more  than  forty  years  of  peace.  During  those 
years  Christianity  had  been  steadily  growing; 
Christians  had  found  their  religion  no  hindrance 
in  the  way  to  high  office  in  the  state;  many  of  them 
were  in  the  palace.  Splendid  churches  in  all  the 
greater  cities  bore  witness  not  only  to  the  popu- 
larity of  the  Christian  religion,  but  to  a  general 
opinion  that  the  days  of  persecution  were  ended 
finally. 

The  conditions  which  gave  rise  to  renewed  con- 
tention against  the  church  do  not  appear  plainly. 
No  unusual  disasters  or  defeats  suggested  that 
the  Christians  were  again  angering  the  gods.  The 
opposition  may  have  been  steadily  but  quietly 
increasing  in  proportion  to  the  success  of  Chris- 
tianity. To  the  patriotic  Roman  who  felt  that  the 
church  was  a  serious  menace  both  to  the  Roman 
religion  and  to  the  Roman  character,  every  new 
ecclesiastical  building  was  a  reason  for  alarm.  The 
matter  would  lie  heavily  upon  the  conscience  of  a 
good  man  like  Diocletian.  It  is  said  that  one  of 
those  who  urged  him  to  do  something  about  it  was 
his  aged  mother,  a  devout  pagan. 

Then,  one  day,  on  the  occasion  of  an  imperial 
59 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

sacrifice,  the  gods  gave  no  omen;  heaven  was  si- 
lent. The  officiating  priest  informed  the  emperor 
that  certain  Christians  had  been  observed  making 
the  sign  of  the  cross.  It  was  their  presence  which 
had  been  resented  by  the  gods.  This  incident  pre- 
cipitated the  persecution.  On  the  morning  of  the 
feast  of  the  Terminalia,  being  the  twenty-third 
of  February,  303,  the  great  church  at  Nicomedia, 
over  against  the  emperor's  palace,  was  torn  down. 
An  edict  was  published  condemning  all  the  Chris- 
tian churches  to  a  like  demolition,  and  ordering 
the  surrender  and  destruction  of  all  the  Christian 
books.  The  persecution  was  directed  not  so  much 
against  the  Christians  individually,  as  in  the  days 
of  Decius,  as  against  the  Christian  society,  in  its 
officers,  its  buildings  and  ifs  books.  Even  these 
milder  measures  were  in  many  cases  enforced  with 
intentional  carelessness  on  the  part  of  officials 
who  were  indifferent  or  sympathetic.  They  were 
willing  to  accept  any  books  which  the  clergy 
might  surrender,  without  looking  too  curiously  to 
see  whether  they  were  sacred  books  or  not.  The 
rigor  of  the  persecution  depended  on  the  temper 
of  the  local  ruler.  In  many  places,  there  were  hard- 
ships and  tragedies.  A  mob  officially  incited  to 
pull  down  a  church  will  not  spare  the  clergy  or  the 
congregation.  The  Christians  themselves  were 
not  disposed  to  look  with  forbearance  on  their 

60 


THE  STRUGGLE  FOR  LIFE 

brethren  who  tried  to  escape  the  storm.  The 
demand  that  the  books  be  surrendered  must  not, 
they  said,  be  evaded;  it  must  be  defied.  There 
appeared  a  new  kind  of  offender.  To  the  libellatic 
of  the  Decian  persecution  was  now  added  the 
traditoTy  the  man  who  gave  up  the  books,  the 
betrayer  of  his  trust,  the  traitor. 

Then  Diocletian  retired  from  the  throne  of  the 
empire;  Galerius,  who  succeeded  to  his  power, 
and  renewed  the  persecution,  died  of  a  loathsome 
disease;  and  new  men  with  a  new  perception  of 
the  significance  of  Christianity,  men  like  Con- 
stantius,  and  Constantine,  his  son,  appeared  upon 
the  scene. 

The  Edict  of  Milan,  set  forth  in  the  year  313  by 
Constantine  and  Licinius,  gave  to  the  Christians 
and  all  others  "full  permission  to  follow  whatso- 
ever worship  any  man  had  chosen."  The  places 
of  Christian  worship  which  had  been  taken  away, 
whether  by  purchase  from  the  state  or  by  imperial 
gift,  were  to  be  restored.  "Those  who  restore 
them  without  price  shall  receive  a  compensation 
from  our  benevolence."  Thus  it  was  hoped  that 
"whatever  divinity  there  is  in  heaven"  would  be 
benevolent  and  propitious  to  the  imperial  govern- 
ment, and  to  all  under  its  authority.  With  this 
edict  the  age  of  the  persecutions  came  to  an  end. 

Not  only  had  the  persecutions  failed  to  destroy 
61 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  church,  they  had  mightily  assisted  it.  They 
had  made  the  profession  of  Christianity  a  serious 
matter,  involving  great  peril  and  demanding  cour- 
age. They  had  exposed  every  believer  to  the  dan- 
ger of  the  loss  of  all  of  his  possessions,  even  of  life 
itself.  They  had  excluded  from  membership  in  the 
church  all  merely  conventional  and  half-hearted 
persons.  And  the  courage  of  the  martyrs  had 
attracted  into  the  church  the  bravest  spirits  of 
the  time.  They  had  exhibited  the  true  credentials 
of  Christianity.  They  had  commended  their  re- 
ligion by  the  witness  of  their  endurance  for  the 
love  of  Christ.  Men  were  asking,  "What  is  this 
new  religion?"  and  were  being  answered  by  the 
patience, the  devotion,  the  splendid  consecration 
of  the  noble  army  of  martyrs.  , 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  DEFENCE   OF   THE   FAITH 


THE  first  antagonist  of  the  Christian  faith 
was  prejudice. 

This  was  partly  in  consequence  of  the  astonish- 
ing novelty  of  the  Christian  ideas  and  ways,  and 
partly  in  consequence  of  the  secrecy  under  the 
cover  of  which  the  Christian  movement  pro- 
ceeded. The  early  service,  which  assembled  the 
Christians  before  sunrise,  was  made  necessary  by 
the  fact  that  every  day  was  a  working-day,  —  un- 
less it  was  a  pagan  festival,  —  but  still  more  by 
the  need  of  seclusion  from  intruding  enemies.  It 
is  easy  to  see  how  the  enmity  and  the  seclusion 
acted  and  reacted,  one  upon  the  other;  how  fear, 
on  the  one  side,  led  the  Christians  to  keep  them- 
selves apart  from  their  neighbors;  and  how  zeal, 
on  the  other  side,  inclined  the  honest,  pious  and 
scandalized  neighbors  to  believe  regarding  the 
Christians  the  current  tales  and  rumors  in  which 
imagination  supplied  the  lack  of  knowledge. 

The  Christians  were  accused  of  atheism,  be- 
cause they  denied  all  the  gods  which  other  men 
revered,  and  had  no  ijnages  to  represent  any  deity 

63 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

of  their  own.  They  were  accused  of  sedition,  be- 
cause nobody  knew  what  they  might  be  planning 
in  their  secret  meetings,  in  the  dark.  What  did 
they  mean  by  the  social  democracy  which  they 
called  brotherhood  in  Christ?  What  was  that  gen- 
eral revolution  for  which  they  were  waiting  and 
praying,  which  was  to  begin  with  a  destruction  of 
all  civilization  in  a  conflagration  of  the  world,  and 
was  to  result  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven?  They 
were  further  accused  of  immorality,  an  accusation 
which  they  themselves  afterwards  brought  into 
their  own  fraternal  disputes  as  one  of  the  counters 
of  controversy,  but  to  which  color  was  given  by 
the  secrecy  of  their  meetings  and  by  misunder- 
standing of  their  sacraments. 

This  position  of  general  prejudice  against  the 
Christian  religion  was  honestly  held  by  excellent 
and  intelligent  persons.  To  Tacitus,  for  example, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  second  century,  Christian- 
ity was  beneath  contempt;  it  was  the  degraded 
superstition  of  ignorant  and  vulgar  people.  To 
the  judges  who  in  the  middle  of  the  third  century 
pronounced  their  sentence  upon  Cyprian,  a  Chris- 
tian bishop  was  living  a  life  of  sacrilege,  and  was 
the  upholder  of  a  great  crime. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  imperial  philosopher  and 
moralist,  saw  nothing  in  Christianity  to  attract 
him.  In  the  single  sentence  of  the  "Meditations" 

64 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

in  which  he  mentions  the  Christians  he  despises 
the  obstinacy  with  which  they  maintain  their 
opinions  even  to  the  pain  of  death.  This  was  partly 
temperamental.  Marcus  Aurelius  was  a  hesitant 
and  indecisive  person,  a  type  of  a  perplexed  gen- 
eration, believing  and  disbelieving.  He  offered 
splendid  sacrifices  to  the  gods,  whose  existence 
he  was  inclined  to  doubt.  He  disliked  the  savage 
games  in  the  Colosseum,  which,  nevertheless,  he 
attended,  taking  with  him,  however,  a  book  which 
he  diligently  read  in  the  midst  of  the  excitement 
of  the  audience.  "Hope  not,"  he  said,  "for  Plato's 
Republic;  but  be  content  if  the  smallest  thing  ad- 
vance," —  a  wise  counsel  for  a  poor  man  tempted 
to  dream  what  he  would  do  if  he  were  king,  but  a 
foolish  counsel  for  a  king  to  give  to  his  own  soul, 
who  being  king  is  bound  not  only  to  hope  for 
Plato's  Republic,  or  whatever  better  ideal  com- 
monwealth he  knows  about,  but  to  strive  to  real- 
ize it  in  his  own  kingdom.  This  temperamental 
individualism  of  Marcus  Aurelius  kept  him  from 
understanding  what  seemed  to  him  the  obsti* 
nacy  with  which  Christians  gave  their  lives  for 
the  brotherhood,  in  the  hope  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven. 

But  the  blindness  of  the  emperor  was  shared  by 
all  the  eminent  men  of  the  day.  The  most  impor- 
tant movement  in  the  history  of  man,  which  was 

65 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

speedily  to  take  possession  of  the  Roman  Empire 
and  to  build  a  new  Rome  by  the  Bosphorus,  and 
thereafter  to  determine  the  progress  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  to  save  out  of  the  wreck  of  barbarian 
overthrow  the  books  of  the  very  men  who  were 
writing  at  that  moment  in  utter  ignorance  of  the 
meaning  of  this  struggling  and  despised  religion  — 
this  movement  began  and  continued  with  no  at- 
tention from  the  wise  and  the  great.  They  either 
overlooked  it,  or  regarded  the  Christians  as  an 
insignificant  Oriental  sect. 

Lucian,  in  the  second  century,  mentioned  the 
Christians  in  a  satire.  His  favorite  literary  form 
was  the  dialogue.  He  wrote  imaginary  conver- 
sations, into  which  he  introduced  the  heroes,  the 
philosophers,  even  the  gods.  They  talked  very 
freely  together,  in  the  inspiration  of  the  agreeable 
hospitality  of  Lucian,  and  one  who  is  admitted 
into  their  informal  society  gets  glimpses  of  the 
mind  of  the  century.  Lucian  stands  in  no  great 
awe  of  the  gods.  There  are  now  so  many  of  them, 
and  from  such  strange  lands,  and  with  such  ex- 
traordinary manners  that  Zeus,  in  one  of  the  dia- 
logues, proposes  to  appoint  a  membership  com- 
mittee of  seven  gods  to  pass  on  all  new  applicants 
for  admission  to  Olympus.  In  another  dialogue, 
old  Charon  comes  up  from  the  Styx  to  see  why 
it  is  that  so  many  of  the  passengers  on  his  f  erry- 

66 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

boat  are  sad  and  reluctant,  and  prefer  life  to 
death;  he  comes  up  to  see  what  there  is  in  life 
which  makes  it  so  attractive,  —  and  returns  more 
perplexed  than  before. 

Proteus  Peregrinus,  a  character  in  one  of  Lu- 
cian's  dialogues,  is  a  wandering  impostor  who  pre- 
tends to  be  a  Christian.  He  finds  the  Christians 
simple  and  credulous  persons,  who  take  him  at  his 
own  valuation,  making  no  inquiries.  Being  put  in 
prison  for  the  Christian  name,  he  finds  that  they 
spare  no  pains  to  minister  to  him.  From  earliest 
dawn  widows  and  little  children  are  waiting  for 
the  opening  of  the  prison  doors  to  bring  him  food. 
Men  of  rank  visit  him,  and  read  to  him  from  their 
sacred  scriptures.  Even  from  neighboring  towns 
people  came  to  comfort  him,  and  to  labor  for 
his  release.  "Why,"  says  Lucian,  "these  poor 
wretches  have  persuaded  themselves  that  they  are 
going  to  be  every  whit  immortal,  and  live  forever; 
wherefore  they  both  despise  death  and  volunta- 
rily devote  themselves  to  it,  most  of  them.  More- 
over, their  first  law-giver  persuaded  them  that 
they  are  all  brothers  one  of  another,  when  once 
they  come  out  and  reject  the  gods  of  the  Greeks 
and  worship  that  crucified  Sophist,  and  live  ac- 
cording to  his  requirements." 

Lucian  was  a  mocking  spirit,  but  Celsus  was  a 
serious  philosopher,  a  conservative  person,  who 

er 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

resented  the  dissent  of  Christianity  from  the  stand- 
ing order.  All  that  remains  of  the  writing  of  Celsus 
is  contained  in  quotations  which  Origen  made  for 
the  purpose  of  refuting  him.  These  fragments  show 
that  he  was  offended  by  the  social  position  of  the 
Christians.  He  disliked  them  for  their  poverty  and 
ignorance.  They  seemed  to  him  presumptuous  and 
impertinent  people  who  undertook  to  be  teachers, 
having  never  learned.  He  was  disgusted  with  their 
insistence  upon  confession  of  sin,  and  the  pride 
which  they  seemed  to  him  to  take  in  having  no 
health  in  them;  they  spoke  like  worms  in  the  mud. 
He  objected  in  much  the  same  spirit  to  the  doc- 
trine of  the  incarnation,  which  degraded  the  idea 
of  God.  He  attacked  the  miraculous  element  in  the 
Christian  records,  declaring  it  to  be  unhistorical 
and  impossible.  As  a  philosopher,  intent  on  the 
pursuit  of  truth,  he  resented  the  doctrine  of  faith, 
which  was  offered,  he  thought,  as  an  easy  way  to 
attain  that  which  the  student  gains  with  labor  and 
difficulty;  it  puts  the  ignorant  on  an  equality  with 
the  educated;  it  leads  only  to  illusion. 

"Let  no  man  come  to  us  who  is  learned  or  wise 
or  prudent;  but  whoso  is  stupid  or  ignorant  or 
babyish,  he  may  come  with  confidence.  The  only 
converts  we  care  to  have  (or  indeed  can  get)  are 
the  silly,  the  ignoble,  and  the  senseless,  the  slaves, 
the  women  and  the  children."    Thus  Celsus,  in 

68 


THE  DEFENCE  OF   THE  FAITH 

the  "True  Word,"  expressed  what  he  understood 
to  be  the  position  of  the  Christian  Church.  "Do 
not  examine;  only  believe";  this,  he  said,  was 
the  Christian  principle,  to  be  abhorred  of  all  phi- 
losophers. 

Against  the  common  prejudice  and  misunder- 
standing, a  defence  was  made  by  the  Apologists. 
Most  of  the  early  Christian  writers  were  apolo- 
gists, justifying  the  position  of  Christianity  and 
attacking  heathenism.  That  was  their  imperative 
business.  Even  at  the  end  of  the  period  of  the 
Early  Church,  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  cen- 
tury, Augustine  must  devote  half  of  his  great 
work,  the  "City  of  God,"  to  a  refutation  of 
pagan  error.  The  name,  however,  applies  more 
strictly  to  a  few  men  who  addressed  their  writ- 
ings to  the  Roman  emperors,  —  to  Hadrian,  to 
Antoninus  Pius,  to  Marcus  Aurelius.  Chief  among 
these  was  Justin  Martyr. 

Justin  was  born  in  Palestine,  at  Sychem,  where 
Christ  talked  with  the  Samaritan  woman  by  the 
well.  His  parents  were  pagans;  his  original  and 
continuing  interest  was  in  philosophy.  He  desired 
to  know  the  truth,  and  especially  the  truth  con- 
cerning God,  and  the  relation  between  God  and 
the  world.  Thus  he  went,  he  says,  to  the  Stoics, 
but  found  that  they  had  nothing  to  tell  him  about 
God;  then  to  the  Peripatetics,  who  offended  him 

69 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH  ' 

by  their  anxiety  regarding  their  fees;  then  to 
the  Pythagoreans,  who  required  him  to  pass  an 
entrance  examination  in  music,  astronomy  and 
geometry  —  how,  they  said,  could  he  understand 
divine  truth  if  he  had  not,  by  such  studies 
weaned  his  soul  from  his  senses?  Finally,  he  found 
some  satisfaction  among  the  Platonists,  who  held 
out  to  him  the  hope  of  attaining  to  the  sight  of 
God. 

But  one  day,  as  he  wandered  in  meditation 
along  the  shore  of  the  sea,  he  met  an  old  man 
of  venerable  appearance  who  referred  him  to  the 
apostles  and  prophets.  These,  he  said,  were  not 
guessing  at  the  truth,  neither  were  they  demon- 
strating divine  things  by  reason,  but  were  wit- 
nesses to  the  truth  which  they  had  themselves 
experienced.  To  them  Justin  went,  and  became 
a  Christian.  Thenceforth  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  work  of  teaching  what  he  had  learned.  He 
did  not  seek  to  be  ordained,  but  as  a  layman,  wear- 
ing his  philosopher's  cloak,  he  became  a  wander- 
ing lecturer,  making  his  way  from  Ephesus  to 
Rome,  where  he  died  by  martyrdom. 

Justin  addressed  two  apologies  —  or,  as  we 
would  say,  defences  of  the  faith  —  to  Marcus 
Aurelius.  They  give  us  some  idea  of  Christian 
life  and  faith  in  the  middle  of  the  second  century. 

There  is  not  as  yet  any  system  of  theology. 
70 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

There  is  no  creed.  The  Christians  are  studying 
the  New  Testament,  and  drawing  inferences  from 
it,  sometimes  wisely,  sometimes  unwisely.  Justin 
is  a  firm  believer  in  the  evidential  value  of  Old 
Testament  prophecy.  He  has  much  to  say  about 
devils,  whom  he  is  inclined  to  identify  with  the  pa- 
gan gods.  He  expects  a  literal  millennium.  **I,"  he 
says,  "and  whoever  are  in  all  points  right-minded 
Christians  know  that  there  will  be  a  resurrection 
of  the  dead  and  a  thousand  years  in  Jerusalem, 
which  will  then  be  built,  adorned,  and  enlarged 
as  the  prophets  Ezekiel  and  Isaiah  and  the  others 
declare." 

There  is  not  as  yet  any  system  of  church  gov- 
ernment or  worship.  There  are  congregations 
whose  chief  officer  is  called  the  president,  having 
deacons  to  assist  him.  There  is  an  informal  serv- 
ice of  Bible-reading,  preaching  and  praying,  with 
a  distribution  of  bread  and  wine.  "On  the  day 
called  Sunday,  all  who  live  in  the  cities  or  in 
the  country  gather  together  in  one  place,  and  the 
memoirs  of  the  apostles,  or  the  writings  of  the 
prophets,  are  read  so  long  as  time  permits.  Then 
when  the  reader  has  ceased,  the  president  verbally 
instructs  and  exhorts  to  the  imitation  of  these 
good  things.  Then  we  all  rise  and  offer  prayers. 
And,  as  we  have  said  before,  when  we  have  finished 
the  prayer,  bread  and  wine  and  water  are  brought, 

71 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

and  the  president  offers  prayers  and  thanksgivings 
according  to  his  ability,  and  the  people  assent, 
saying  Amen.  And  then  there  is  a  distribution  to 
each  and  a  participation  in  the  eucharistic  ele- 
ments, and  portions  are  sent  to  those  who  are  not 
present,  by  the  deacons." 

The  emphasis  of  Justin  is  on  the  righteousness 
of  the  Christians,  against  the  slanders  of  the  pa- 
gans. The  heart  of  Christianity  is  right  conduct. 
Justin  exemplifies  in  his  own  manner  of  writing 
that  brotherly  spirit  which  he  says  is  characteris- 
tic of  Christianity.  He  has  no  anathemas  for  his 
pagan  neighbors.  He  believes  that  the  divine  in- 
fluence of  Jesus  Christ  touches  all  men  everywhere; 
the  Word  is  sown  in  all  hearts;  the  Light  light- 
eneth  every  man.  All^ood  living  and  good  think- 
ing are  essentially  Christian. 

II 

The  second  antagonist  of  the  Christian  faith 
was  heresy. 

Heresy  is  partial  truth.  All  profound  truth, 
especially  when  it  deals  with  that  which  is  divine 
and  eternal,  has  two  sides.  It  has  a  nearer  side 
which  the  mind  may  apprehend,  and  concerning 
which  it  is  possible  to  make  clear  and  definite 
statements.  It  has  also  a  farther  side,  beyond  all 
human  apprehension,  extending  into  infinity.  The 

72 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

heretic  is  the  man  who,  having  attained  certain 
definite  ideas  of  truth,  cries,  "  Now  I  know  it  all." 
Standing  on  the  shore  of  the  ocean,  and  looking 
out  over  the  illimitable  deep,  he  thinks  he  sees 
the  other  coast.  He  does  see  land,  but  the  sight 
means  that  he  is  looking  not  over  the  ocean,  but 
over  some  little  bay  or  inlet  of  it.  The  heretic  has 
a  complete  system  of  theology.  This  also  is  the 
refutation  of  heresy.  There  can  be  no  complete 
solution  of  any  equation  which  contains  the  factor 
of  infinity. 

The  most  eminent  heretics  of  the  second  and 
third  centuries  were  the  Gnostics.  The  name  sig- 
nifies their  claim  of  complete  knowledge.  Gnosti- 
cism arose  from  an  honest  desire  to  make  Chris- 
tianity a  consistent  intellectual  system,  to  provide 
for  it  a  theology  which  should  appeal  to  men  of 
learning  and  reflection.  Such  men  were  beginning 
to  come  into  the  church,  bringing  their  intellectual 
habits  with  them.  They  were  somewhat  dismayed 
at  the  informality  of  the  current  Christian  think- 
ing, and  undertook  to  introduce  into  it  the  ele- 
ment of  order. 

In  the  endeavor  to  state  the  Christian  religion 
in  such  a  way  as  to  appeal  to  the  cultivated  mind, 
these  men  found  two  difficulties.  There  was  a  diffi- 
culty in  the  reconciling  of  the  Old  Testament  with 
the  New;  partly  in  the  matter  of  morals,  where 

73 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  New  Testament  was  evidently  on  a  higher 
plane;  and  partly  in  that  contrast  upon  which  St. 
Paul  had  insisted  between  the  gospel  and  the  law. 
There  was  also  a  difficulty  in  reconciling  the  condi- 
tion of  the  world  with  the  idea  of  God  —  the  bad 
world  with  the  good  God;  involving  the  everlast- 
ing problem  of  the  origin  and  significance  of  evil. 
Studying  these  difficulties  in  the  light  of  con- 
temporary philosophy,  the  Gnostics  worked  out 
certain  cardinal  propositions.  They  maintained 
(1)  that  matter  and  spirit  are  essentially  antago- 
nistic, even  as  light  and  darkness,  and  as  good  and 
evil;  matter  being  wholly  evil.  They  held  (2)  that 
there  are  two  worlds,  a  lower  and  a  higher;  a  lower 
world  in  which  spirit  is  imprisoned  in  matter  and 
is  striving  to  get  free;  and  a  higher  world  inhabited 
by  divine  beings,  whom  they  called  aeons,  emana- 
tions from  God,  some  of  them  very  near  to  God  in 
His  infinite  distance,  others  nearer  to  the  world. 
They  said  (3)  that  one  of  these  seons,  whom  they 
named  the  Demiurge,  made  the  lower  world,  and 
him  they  identified  with  the  God  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment; and  that  another  aeon,  whom  they  named 
the  Christ,  came  to  redeem  men  from  the  lower 
world,  to  liberate  them  from  their  bondage  to  mat- 
ter into  the  freedom  of  the  spirit.  They  taught  (4) 
that  the  Old  Testament,  which  describes  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  Demiurge,  may  be  treated  with 

74 


^^-V*v 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 


great  freedom ;  there  is  no  need  to  believe  or  to  obey 
its  teachings.  As  for  the  Christ,  the  supreme  and 
saving  aeon,  (5)  He  had  no  real  body;  the  essen- 
tial evil  of  matter  made  that  impossible;  the  in- 
carnation, the  crucifixion,  the  resurrection,  were 
only  in  appearance.  They  held  (6)  that  Christ 
saves  men  not  by  any  sacrificial  atonement,  but 
by  illumination,  by  shining  in  their  souls.  This 
illumination  shines  effectively  in  the  souls  of  the 
receptive,  whom  they  called  Gnostics,  as  possess- 
ing knowledge,  while  ordinary,  dull  and  unrecep- 
tive  Christians  had  nothing  but  faith.  The  Gnos- 
tics had  immediate  access  to  God,  all  others  being 
distant  from  Him.  They  were  in  a  Covenant  of 
Grace,  others  being  in  an  inferior  Covenant  of 
Works. 

There  were  fanatical  Gnostics,  such  as  the  Car- 
pocratians,  who  finding  the  law  to  be  the  work 
of  the  Demiurge  despised  it,  and  disobeyed  it  on 
principle;  or  the  Ophites,  who,  perceiving  that  the 
serpent  in  Eden  was  an  enemy  of  the  Demiurge, 
applauded  the  serpent  and  brought  in  serpent 
worship  out  of  immoral  pagan  cults;  or  the  Cain- 
ites,  who  for  a  similar  reason  canonized  Cain  and 
all  the  other  Old  Testament  antagonists  of  God — 
the  martyrs  of  the  flood,  the  martyrs  of  the  Tower 
of  Babel,  Saint  Korah,  Saint  Dathan  and  Saint 
Abiram.    These  men  brought  scandal  upon  the 

75 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Christian  name,  and  seemed  to  verify  the  worst 
rumors  of  pagan  enmity. 

But  most  of  the  Gnostics  were  honest  and  ear- 
nest men.  They  believed  themselves  to  be  uphold- 
ing the  spirit  against  the  letter,  the  gospel  against 
the  law,  spiritual  religion  against  material  religion. 
They  felt  they  were  fighting  over  again  the  splen- 
did battles  which  St.  Paul  fought.  Such  Gnostics 
were  Valentinus  and  Marcion. 

Valentinus  concerned  himself  with  the  problem 
of  the  relation  between  the  good  God  and  the  bad 
world.  This  he  solved  by  the  doctrine  of  a  series 
of  seons;  first  a  group  of  eight,  the  Ogdoad,  begin- 
ning with  the  Unutterable  and  the  Silent,  from 
whom  proceeded  Mind,  Truth,  Word,  Life,  Man, 
Church;  then  a  group  of  ten,  the  Decad;  then  the 
Dodecad.  Wisdom,  last-born  of  the  Dodecad,  as- 
pired to  know  the  Unutterable.  In  the  midst  of 
her  vain  struggles  to  attain  this  forbidden  knowl- 
edge she  gave  birth  to  another  seon,  called  the  De- 
sire of  Wisdom,  who  was  immediately  expelled 
from  Heaven.  The  Desire  of  Wisdom  became  the 
mother  of  the  Demiurge  who  made  the  world. 
Some  men  he  made  spiritual,  having  in  them  a 
spark  of  the  celestial  fire  which  the  Desire  of  Wis- 
dom brought  from  above.  Some  men  he  made 
material.  The  material  men  are  incapable  of  sal- 
vation; the  spiritual  men,  called  Gnostics,  are 

76 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

certain  of  it.  Between  the  two,  the  Demiurge 
made  ordinary  men,  psychic  men,  who  may  be 
saved  by  help  from  on  high.  To  save  these  men 
came  new  seons,  Christ  and  the  Spirit  and  Jesus. 
Men's  salvation  depends  upon  their  receptivity 
to  these  divine  influences,  a  receptivity  which  is 
assisted  by  the  practice  of  asceticism. 

This  Valentinian  scheme,  fantastic  in  form,  is 
in  reality  a  statement  of  theology  in  terms,  not  of 
ideas  but  of  persons.  It  is  a  kind  of  philosoph- 
ical poetrj^^^^^..-— ****"'* 

Marcion  concerned  himself  with  the  problem 
of  the  relation  between  the  New  Testament  and 
the  Old.  In  his  sober  and  prosaic  Gnosticism,  the 
Valentinian  angels  and  archangels  had  no  place. 
Marcion  applied  to  the  current  Christianity  what 
he  believed  to  be  the  principles  of  St.  Paul.  Find- 
ing Paul  and  the  other  apostles  at  variance,  he 
threw  out  what  the  apostles,  in  error,  had  main- 
tained :  first,  the  whole  Old  Testament,  as  the  book 
of  the  law  which  Paul  had  rejected;  then  those 
parts  of  the  New  Testament  which  seemed  to  him 
unpauline.  He  retained  a  single  Gospel,  mainly 
that  of  St.  Luke,  and  ten  of  St.  Paul's  epistles, 
somewhat  expurgated.  Upholding,  as  he  believed, 
a  spiritual  religion  in  opposition  to  religion  de- 
based and  materialized,  he  held  that  the  human- 
ity of  Christ  was  only  in  appearance.    Christ 

77 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

could  not  have  taken  our  material  flesh,  which  is 
essentially  evil.  We  ourselves,  being  unhappily 
combined  with  flesh,  must  release  ourselves  from 
it  by  ascetic  practices. 

Gnosticism,  thus  variously  presented  by  Valen- 
tinus  and  by  Marcion,  offered  to  its  Christian 
disciples  a  new  statement  of  religious  truth  and 
a  new  kind  of  religious  life.  The  Gnostics  were 
gathered  into  fraternities,  over  against  the  ortho- 
dox. Not  only  the  theology  but  the  unity  of 
the  church  was  menaced.  The  agreement  of  the 
new  teaching  with  the  doctrines  of  the  remoteness 
of  God  and  of  the  evil  of  matter,  which  the  West 
was  eagerly  receiving  from  the  East,  gave  it  popu- 
larity. It  seemed  to  meet  the  objections  brought 
by  Lucian  and  by  Celsus.  Out  of  the  common 
crowd  of  ignorant  Christians  it  selected  an  exclu- 
sive company  of  cultivated  persons  who  despised 
the  flesh  and  devoted  themselves  to  the  study 
of  philosophy.  It  claimed  a  superior  knowledge, 
by  virtue  of  which  it  interpreted  the  Christian 
religion  to  suit  its  own  ideas. 

A  notable  reply  to  Gnosticism  was  made  by 
Irenseus.  He  wrote  a  book  with  the  large  title 
"Against  Heresies."  In  it  he  described  the  opin- 
ions  of  Valentinus  and  Marcion  and  a  host  of 
lesser  Gnostics,  as  if  a  plain  description  of  their 
foolish  notions  must  be  of  itself  a  suflScient  ref uta- 

78 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

tion;  and  over  against  their  errors  he  set  the  true 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  religion.  It  was  impos- 
sible, however,  to  evade  the  fact  that  the  Gnos- 
tics had  raised  a  new  question  which  demanded 
a  reply.  They  had  made  it  necessary  for  theolo- 
gians to  consider  the  test  of  truth.  How  shall  we 
know  the  truth?  The  Gnostics  claimed  to  be  the 
only  true  teachers  of  Christianity.  They  claimed 
that  their  societies  were  the  only  true  Christian 
churches.  To  the  natural  answer  of  the  orthodox 
that  the  Scriptures  were  against  them,  they  re- 
plied by  a  criticism  of  the  accepted  Scriptures 
which  enabled  them  to  reject  whatever  was  out 
of  accord  with  their  beliefs. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Irenseus  brought 
forward  the  argument  from  tradition.  He  said 
that  the  test  of  Christian  truth  is  its  agreement 
with  the  teachings  of  the  Lord  and  His  apostles, 
and  that  the  question  of  such  agreement  is  to  be 
referred  in  every  case  to  the  churches  to  whom 
those  teachings  were  committed.  Such  a  refer- 
ence made  it  necessary  to  identify  the  apostolic 
churches;  especially,  so  far  as  possible,  to  name 
the  men  who  in  order,  from  the  apostolic  days, 
had  held  the  episcopal  office  in  them.  Thus  the 
rise  of  heresy  and  the  endeavor  to  meet  it  by 
tradition  set  a  new  emphasis  upon  the  organiza- 
tion of  religion.  It  showed  that  the  bishop  was  a 

79  . 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

person  whose  value  was  not  only  administrative 
but  evidential;  and  that  the  evidential  value  of 
the  bishop  depended  greatly  upon  the  care  with 
which  his  direct  and  orderly  succession  from  the 
apostles  was  secured. 

Irenseus  said  to  the  Gnostics,  If  you  would  know 
whether  your  teaching  is  Christian  teaching  or 
not,  ask  the  nearest  bishop,  who  received  that 
teaching  from  his  predecessor,  and  whose  prede- 
cessor received  it  from  the  apostles.  Such  an  ar- 
gument came  naturally  from  Irenseus  who  had 
himself  been  taught  by  Polycarp,  who  had  been 
instructed  by  the  apostle  John. 

The  effect  was  to  emphasize  the  idea  of  the 
church;  and  so  much  the  more  because  Marcion's 
fraternities  were  claiming  to  be  the  true  churches. 
The  claim  was  refuted  by  the  same  reference  to 
history.  You  are  not  true  churches  unless  you 
can  show  that  your  ministers  are  successors  of  the 
apostles.  Whatever  looseness  of  organization  had 
preceded  the  appearance  of  Gnosticism  was  now 
amended.  It  was  necessary  for  the  defence  of  the 
faith  that  the  church  as  the  guardian  of  the  sacred 
tradition  should  be  a  definite  society.  ^ 

It  was  also  necessary  that  the  heretic,  being 
thus  referred  to  the  church  that  he  might  com- 
pare his  new  doctrine  with  the  old  tradition, 
should  find  the  tradition  definite.   There  must  be 

80 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

a  creed.  Potentially  the  creed,  like  the  church, 
had  existed  from  the  beginning.  Not  only  were 
the  materials  of  it  present  in  the  Scriptures,  but 
some  brief  formula  had  long  been  provided  for  use 
by  those  who  came  to  be  baptized.  Little  attention, 
however,  had  been  given  to  the  matter.  The  for- 
mulation of  truth  in  a  creed  was  as  tentative  and 
local  as  the  organization  of  life  in  a  church.  The 
errors  of  the  Gnostics  hastened  the  making  of  a 
creed.  Accordingly,  in  Irenseus  and  in  other  writ- 
ers of  the  time,  there  appear  endeavors  to  state  in 
compact  form  the  chief  doctrines  of  Christianity. 
**The  Church,"  says  Irenseus,  "though  dispersed 
through  all  the  world  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
has  received  from  the  apostles  and  their  disciples 
belief  in  one  God  the  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of 
heaven  and  earth,  and  the  seas  and  all  that  is  in 
them ;  and  in  one  Christ  Jesus,  the  Son  of  God,  who 
became  man  for  our  salvation;  and  in  the  Holy 
Ghost  who  proclaimed  through  the  prophets  the 
dispensations  of  God,  and  the  advents,  and  the 
birth  from  a  virgin,  and  the  passion,  and  the  res- 
urrection from  the  dead,  and  the  ascension  in 
the  flesh  into  heaven  of  the  beloved  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord,  and  His  return  from  the  heavens  in  the 
glory  of  the  Father  to  sum  up  all  things,  and  to 
raise  all  flesh  of  the  whole  human  race." 
The  doctrines  selected  for  statement  in  this 
81 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

work  are  such  as  contradicted  Gnosticism.  God 
the  Father  is  the  maker  of  the  world;  Jesus  Christ 
was  truly  man,  even  in  His  ascension  bearing  the 
flesh  of  humanity. 

The  defence  of  the  faith  by  emphasizing  the 
witness  of  the  churches  apostolically  or  anciently 
founded,  and  by  referring  to  definite  statements 
of  Christian  belief  commonly  held,  was  further 
strengthened  by  the  testimony  of  the  Christian 
Scriptures. 

The  Gnostic  heresy  which  made  important 
the  more  careful  organization  of  Christian  life  in 
the  Church,  and  the  more  careful  formulation 
of  Christian  truth  in  the  Creed,  led  also  to  the 
determination  of  the  Canon.  Over  against  the 
list  of  authoritative  writings  drawn  up  by  Mar- 
cion,  the  fathers  set  the  books  which  they  agreed 
to  include  in  the  New  Testament.  The  earliest 
list  of  canonical  scriptures  is  the  "Muratorian 
Fragment,"  belonging  probably  to  the  latter  part 
of  the  second  century.  Irenseus  names  the  four 
Gospels.  About  the  same  time  Tatian  (170)  was 
combining  the  four  Gospels  for  continuous  reading 
in  his  "Diatessaron."  The  process  of  discussion 
resulted  in  a  list  made  by  Athanasius  which  is 
identical  with  the  New  Testament  as  we  have  it. 
The  acceptance  of  the  Athanasian  Canon  accom- 
panied the  acceptance  of  Nicene  Christianity. 


1 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

ni 

The  third  antagonist  of  the  Christian  faith  was 
rivalry. 

The  old  religion  of  the  Roman  world  was  losing 
its  mastery  over  human  life  because  of  its  failure 
to  meet  certain  imperative  needs.  It  took  little 
account  of  sin,  except  such  ritual  offences  as  pre- 
vented the  proper  offering  of  the  sacrifices.  It 
was  therefore  unconcerned  as  to  salvation.  And 
it  dealt  in  a  very  vague  and  uncertain  way  with 
the  life  to  come.  It  was  as  prosaic,  as  practical, 
and  as  secular  as  politics;  with  which,  indeed,  it 
was  so  connected  that  political  position  carried 
religious  duty  with  it,  and  whoever  became  a 
magistrate  became  a  priest  at  the  same  time, 
during  his  term  of  oflSce. 

But  the  Roman  world  was  dissatisfied  with  a 
religion  which  lacked  the  element  of  redemption. 
It  was  a  part  of  the  initial  advantage  of  Christian- 
ity that  it  came  as  a  religion  of  salvation  from  sin, 
and  brought  a  definite  promise  of  eternal  life. 
This  advantage,  however,  it  shared  with  two 
other  new  religions  which  vigorously  competed 
with  it.  One  of  these  was  Mithraism,  a  revival  of 
paganism;  the  other  was  Neoplatonism,  a  revival 
of  philosophy. 

Mithraism  was  already  ancient  in  the  East 
83 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

before  it  appeared  in  the  West.  Mithra,  in  the 
Vedas,  was  the  god  of  light,  both  in  the  sky  and 
in  the  soul,  the  enemy  of  darkness  and  of  error. 
In  the  Avesta,  he  was  between  the  good  god  Or- 
mazd  and  the  bad  god  Ahriman.  His  function  was 
to  destroy  evil;  he  was  the  god  of  the  harvest,  and 
of  victory  in  battle,  and  of  the  triumph  of  the  life 
of  man  over  the  death  of  the  body.  All  the  Persians 
worshipped  him.  About  the  second  century  be- 
fore Christ  the  Greeks  of  Asia  Minor  identified 
him  with  the  Sun,  and  a  Pergamene  artist  made 
the  bas-relief  which  ever  after  served  as  the  altar- 
piece  of  all  the  Mithraic  shrines.  Mithra,  repre- 
sented as  a  youth  with  Phrygian  cap,  and  cloak 
blown  by  the  wind,  is  slaying  a  sacred  bull.  On 
one  side  a  figure  with  torch  inverted  symbolizes 
night,  or  winter,  or  death;  on  the  other  side  a  fig- 
ure with  torch  uplifted  symbolizes  dawn,  or  spring, 
or  life.  The  blood  of  the  bull  fertilizes  the  earth, 
out  of  which  flowers  and  wheat  are  rising.  Lesser 
reliefs  along  the  frame  show  Mithra  bom  among 
the  rocks  and  adored  by  shepherds,  and  after 
his  conquest  with  the  bull  feasting  with  the 
Sun. 

The  religion  of  Mithra  admitted  the  worshipper 
to  the  salvation  which  the  god  had  wrought.  There 
was  a  baptism  in  the  blood  of  a  bull  (tauroholium) 
which  effected  a  new  birth,  concerning  which  was 

84 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

used  the  phrase  in  wternum  renatus.  There  was  a 
stated  gradation  of  spiritual  progress,  an  attaining 
of  now  this  rank  and  then  that,  with  accompany- 
ing ceremonies.  For  those  who  gained  the  higher 
privileges  there  was  a  sacrament  of  bread  and 
mingled  wine  and  water.  Before  the  mystic  bas- 
relief,  in  which  the  slaying  of  the  bull  took  the 
place  which  was  occupied  in  Christian  churches 
by  the  death  upon  the  cross,  was  an  altar  with 
many  lights,  before  which  vested  priests  sang 
litanies  to  the  sound  of  music.  The  coincidences 
scandalized  and  dismayed  the  Christians. 

This  religion,  entering  the  Roman  world  in  the 
first  century  with  the  Cilician  pirates  who  were 
captured  by  Pompey,  was  carried  by  foreign  mer- 
chants along  all  the  lines  of  trade,  and  by  foreign 
soldiers  who  served  in  the  Roman  legions  along  all 
the  military  roads.  It  appealed  to  traders  because 
Mithra  was  a  god  of  prosperity,  and  to  soldiers 
because  Mithra  was  a  god  of  victory;  but  it  ap- 
pealed also  to  thousands  of  plain  citizens  because, 
in  the  midst  of  a  wicked  world,  it  was  a  religion  of 
righteousness,  hating  falsehood  and  iniquity,  and 
in  the  midst  of  sorrow  it  promised  a  blessed  life 
to  come.  Mithra  was  to  descend  from  heaven  and 
take  with  him  all  the  faithful  into  joy  everlasting. 
It  made  a  further  appeal  to  thoughtful  and  con- 
servative people,  because  it  proposed  to  include 

85 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

under  Mithra,  god  of  the  Sun,  all  the  other  gods 
with  all  their  ancient  rituals. 

It  was  this  hospitality  which  brought  about  the 
eventual  failure  of  Mithraism.  The  religion  grew 
till  it  seemed  about  to  conquer  its  Christian  rival. 
The  emperors  liked  it  because  with  its  central 
deity  it  lent  itself  to  centralized  government.  But 
it  was  perceived  at  last  that  all  the  old  religions, 
outworn  and  immoral,  were  returning  in  its  train. 
It  had  had  from  the  beginning  two  defects  which 
must  finally  destroy  it:  it  was  a  man's  religion, 
having  no  place  in  it  for  women;  and  it  was 
founded  on  faith  in  a  god  who  never  actually 
existed,  but  was  a  poetic  symbol  of  the  power  of 
nature.  Thus  it  waned,  and  disappeared  late  in  the 
fourth  century,  leaving  as  a  heritage  to  Chris- 
tianity the  name  of  Sunday  for  the  day  of  the 
week  which  it  agreed  with  the  Christians  in  keep- 
ing holy,  and  the  twenty-fifth  of  December,  which 
it  had  celebrated  as  the  birthday  of  the  Uncon- 
quered  Sun.; 

Neoplatonism  was  an  endeavor  to  combine  the 
philosophies  as  Mithraism  endeavored  to  combine 
the  religions.  But  it  was  a  religion  rather  than 
a  philosophy  because  it  subordinated  knowledge 
and  discredited  all  intellectual  processes,  putting 
its  faith  in  revelation.  The  current  philosophies 
had  long  taught  men  to  despise  the  world  of  the 

86 


THE  DEFENCE  OF   THE  FAITH 

senses,  —  except  the  philosophy  of  Epicurus, 
which  the  Neoplatonists  hated.  Neoplatonism 
taught  men  to  despise  the  world  of  reason.  It  of- 
fered to  uplift  its  /iisciples  into  a  new  world,  a 
world  of  revelation,  wherein,  all  things  material 
and  even  intellectual  left  behind,  they  came  by 
trance  and  ecstasy  into  the  presence  of  God. 

Plotinus  wrote  the  Scriptures  of  Neoplatonism 
in  his  six  books  called  the  "Enneads,"  that  is,  the 
Nines.  Plato  he  knew;  Aristotle  he  knew;  Orien- 
tal religions  he  may  have  known,  for  he  lived  in 
Alexandria  where  the  West  and  the  East  met.  He 
said  that  at  the  heart  of  the  universe  is  the  One, 
and  with  the  One  is  Thought,  and  with  Thought 
is  the  Soul  —  the  world-soul,  and  the  individual 
soul.  The  soul  lives  in  the  material  world.  It 
ought  to  be  the  master  of  the  world;  but  here  is 
matter,  source  of  all  evil,  in  which  the  soul  is  im- 
prisoned. How  shall  it  escape?  This  is  the  supreme 
question,  beside  which  all  the  occupations  of  the 
mind  of  man  are  insignificant  and  foolish.  Ploti- 
nus answered  it  by  saying  that  the  escape  of  the 
soul  is  effected  in  part  by  virtuous  living,  and  in 
part  by  ascetic  practices.  Thus  living,  putting  the 
evil  and  material  world  away,  meditating  in  si- 
lence upon  things  divine,  the  soul  enters  into  com- 
munion with  God.  Porphyry,  the  chief  disciple 
of  Plotinus,  said  that  during  the  six  years  of  their 

87 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

intimate  friendship  the  master  entered  four  times 
into  this  beatific  state. 

Porphyry,  who  wrote  a  book  "Against  the 
Christians,"  hurt  his  cause  by  trying,  like  Mith- 
raism,  to  save  the  old  religions.  The  revelation 
of  God,  he  truly  held,  is  made  in  all  the  world; 
but  especially,  he  added,  in  the  ancient  cults  with 
their  immemorial  liturgies.  But  the  essential  weak- 
ness of  Neoplatonism  was  in  the  narrow  range 
of  its  appeal.  It  addressed  itself  to  cultivated 
people,  and,  among  them,  to  such  as  had  the  tem- 
perament of  the  mystic.  It  was  right  in  its  insist- 
ence upon  a  supreme  good,  beyond  sense,  beyond 
reason,  beyond  reality,  but  when  it  endeavored  to 
explain  what  that  supreme  good  is,  the  plain  man 
could  not  understand  it. 

The  emperor  Julian  tried  to  substitute  Neo- 
platonism for  Christianity,  but  in  vain.  The  em- 
peror Justinian  closed  the  doors  of  the  Academy 
of  Athens,  and  the  seven  philosophers,  who  alone 
represented  the  Neoplatonic  faith,  took  their 
books  and  sought  the  hospitality  of  the  East. 
Just  at  that  time,  however,  an  anonymous  writ- 
ing bearing  the  name  of  Dionysius  the  Areopagite, 
whom  Paul  converted  at  Athens,  appeared  at 
Constantinople  and  gained  immediate  acceptance. 
It  was  Neoplatonist  from  beginning  to  end.  It 
summoned  men  to  renounce  the  world,  to  put 

88 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

away  from  them  all  hindering  conditions,  to  de- 
vote themselves  to  silence  and  meditation  and 
solitary  absorption  in  God.  It  exalted  the  clois- 
tered life,  and  for  a  thousand  years  determined  the 
monastic  mood.  It  set  the  note  of  the  mysticism 
of  the  saints.  Thus  Neoplatonism,  defeated  in  its 
competition  with  Christianity  for  the  allegiance 
of  the  Roman  world,  nevertheless  profoundly 
affected  Christianity  itself. 

Against  Mithraism  and  Neoplatonism  the 
Christian  fathers  defended  the  faith,  not  so  much 
by  controversy  as  by  discriminating  sympathy. 
They  hated  polytheism  and  idolatry  and  all  their 
attendant  superstitions  and  immoralities,  and 
thus  far  they  were  the  enemies  of  each  of  these  at- 
tempts to  save  the  gods  of  paganism.  But  the  in- 
clusive purpose  of  both  Mithraism  and  Neopla- 
tonism found  in  them  a  fraternal  response.  They 
believed  in  the  Light  which  lighteth  every  man, 
and  found  gleams  of  it  in  all  human  endeavor 
after  God.  Clement  and  Origen  were  widely 
read  in  Greek  literature  and  philosophy.  Cle- 
ment was  a  Neoplatonist.  Origen  was  a  fellow 
student  with  Plotinus  in  the  school  of  Ammo- 
nius  Saccas.  The  perception  of  God  in  all  honest 
thought  was,  indeed,  confined  mainly  to  the  Greek 
fathers.  The  Latins  were  of  another  mind.  Ter- 
tullian,  contemporary  with  Clement  and  Origen, 

89 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

hated  all  philosophy  and  poetry.  This  was  in 
part  by  reason  of  his  temperament,  but  also,  in 
equal  part,  by  reason  of  his  ignorance.  The  Latin 
fathers  were  unable  to  read  Greek.  To  Clement 
and  Origen,  brought  up  in  Alexandria,  the  Greek 
mind  and  the  Greek  spirit  were  gifts  of  God.  They 
themselves  possessed  them,  being  Greeks.  And 
the  aspiration  after  the  unseen  and  ineffable,  the 
endeavor  by  prayer,  and  pure  living,  and  contin- 
ued eager  meditation,  to  ascend  to  God,  was  one 
in  which  they  shared. 

The  three  books  which  remain  of  the  writings 
of  Clement  represent  the  stages  through  which 
the  disciple  passed  in  the  religion  of  Mithra,  in 
the  religion  of  the  Neoplatonists,  in  the  Eleusin- 
ian  mysteries  —  purification,  initiation,  revela- 
tion. Through  these  stages  he  was  accustomed  to 
lead  his  pupils  in  the  Catechetical  School  of  Alex- 
andria. Clement's  "Address  to  the  Greeks"  deals 
with  the  error  and  absurdity  of  the  classic  pagan 
religion,  and  shows  how  the  greatest  of  the  Greeks 
had  visions  of  the  one  God,  whom  we  see  truly  in 
the  face  of  Jesus  Christ.  His  "Pedagogue"  is 
a  handbook  of  Christian  manners,  describing  in 
great  detail  how  a  Christian  ought  to  order  his 
life,  how  he  should  eat  and  drink,  and  furnish  his 
house,  and  associate  with  his  neighbors.  His 
"Miscellanies"  {stromateis  =  hags  for  bedclothes) 

90 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

justify  the  name,  discussing  all  manner  of  themes 
without  order  or  sequence;  but  the  general  pur- 
pose is  to  show  the  character  of  the  true  Christian, 
whom  Clement  does  not  hesitate  to  call  the  true 
Gnostic.  The  progress  which  Clement  endeavored 
to  assist  in  the  life  of  the  individual,  he  perceived 
in  the  religious  history  of  the  race.  Moses  pre- 
pared the  Jews  for  Christianity;  Plato  prepared 
the  Greeks.  In  all  religions,  in  all  good  books,  by 
all  knowledge,  Christ  brings  men  to  himself. 

The  most  eminent  pupil  of  Clement,  having  the 
same  liberal  spirit  together  with  greater  learning, 
was  his  successor,  Origen.  Origen  not  only  ex- 
ceeded the  fame  of  his  master,  but  attained  a  place 
in  the  history  of  theology  which  is  equalled  only 
by  Athanasius  and  Augustine.  He  had  some 
trouble  with  ecclesiastical  authority,  and  did  not 
get  on  well  with  his  bishop,  Demetrius  of  Alexan- 
dria. The  records  do  not  show  that  he  was  seri- 
ously at  fault.  He  was  so  subjected,  however,  to 
episcopal  interruption  of  his  studies  that  he  re- 
moved from  Alexandria  to  Csesarea,  where  he  suf- 
fered martyrdom  in  the  Decian  persecution.  After 
his  death  various  vigorous  controversies  arose  as 
to  certain  of  his  teachings.  In  the  course  of  his 
voluminous  writings  he  had  given  his  opinion  upon 
almost  every  possible  doctrine,  and  it  was  easy 
to  differ  from  him  in  detail.    There  were  those 

91 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

who  disliked  what  he  said  about  the  preexistence 
of  souls,  or  the  plurality  of  worlds,  or  the  resur- 
rection of  the  flesh.  He  supplied  the  theologians 
for  several  hundred  years  with  subjects  for  acri- 
monious debate.  These  circumstances  hindered 
and  prevented  his  ecclesiastical  recognition. 
Neither  Clement  nor  Origen  was  given  the  honor- 
ary degree  which  is  denoted  by  the  title  "  saint." 

Nevertheless,  Origen  served  Christianity  in  two 
remarkable  and  valuable  ways :  he  was  the  founder 
of  the  science  of  Biblical  criticism;  he  was  also 
the  founder  of  the  science  of  systematic  theology. 

Origen  was  the  first  Christian  commentator. 
He  addressed  himself  through  years  of  laborious 
study  to  the  perfecting  of  the  text  of  the  Bible,  es- 
pecially of  the  Old  Testament,  comparing  manu- 
scripts, setting  down  the  Hebrew  and  the  various 
Greek  versions  in  parallel  columns,  to  make  his 
great  work  the  "Hexapla."  And  the  Bible  which 
he  thus  studied  textually  he  also  studied  exegeti- 
cally.  He  commented  upon  it,  chapter  by  chapter. 
His  method  here  was  unfortunate,  and  delayed  for 
a  thousand  years  the  investigation  of  the  actual 
meaning  of  the  Bible  writers.  He  made  everything 
into  allegory.  Thus  he  occupied  himself  not  in 
ascertaining  what  the  Bible  says,  but  in  reading 
into  it  his  own  ideas.  And  in  this  reversal  of  the 
true  method  of  study  he  was  followed  by  genera- 

92 


THE  DEFENCE  OF  THE  FAITH 

tions  of  devout  readers,  who  instead  of  listening 
to  the  Bible  men,  prophets  and  apostles,  insisted 
upon  telling  the  apostles  and  prophets  what  they 
ought  to  mean. 

Origen  was  at  the  same  time  the  first  Christian 
theologian.  In  his  book  "Against  Celsus,"  he 
met  as  best  he  could  the  anti-Christian  arguments 
of  that  keen  antagonist,  but  in  his  "First  Prin- 
ciples" he  made  the  initial  attempt  to  state  in 
order,  with  due  accompaniment  of  proof  from 
Scripture  and  from  reason,  the  doctrines  of  the 
Christian  faith.  From  the  Gnostics  and  the  Neo- 
platonists  he  brought  over  into  the  church  the  idea 
of  a  theological  system,  a  synthesis  of  right  belief. 
He  treated  of  God,  one  and  immutable,  revealing 
himself  in  the  Word,  begotten  of  the  substance  of 
the  Father,  co-eternal  and  co-substantial,  yet  in- 
ferior, being  created.  The  Word,  he  said,  came 
to  redeem  man  whose  soul  is  contending  with  his 
body.  The  Word,  having  first  sent  the  prophets, 
came  at  last  himself,  taking  human  form.  Ordi- 
nary men  He  redeems  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  cross, 
freeing  them  from  bondage  to  the  devil,  and  thus 
making  it  possible  for  them  to  work  out  their  sal- 
vation from  the  flesh.  Wise  men,  spiritual  men, 
those  whom  like  Clement  he  called  Gnostics,  He 
redeems  by  the  illumination  of  their  souls. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  ORGANIZATION  OF   RELIGION 

WHEN  we  seek  for  the  beginning  of  defi- 
nite and  settled  organization  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church  we  find  it  not  in  the  first  or  second 
century,  but  in  the  third,  and  not  in  the  East,  but 
in  the  West. 


The  idea  of  a  permanent  ordering  of  the  admin- 
istration and  of  the  worship  of  the  Christians  was 
excluded  from  the  minds  of  the  early  disciples  by 
their  expectation  of  the  speedy  return  of  Christ. 
It  did  not  occur  to  them  to  lay  abiding  foundations 
in  a  world  which  might  at  any  moment  pass  away. 
It  was  necessary,  indeed,  to  provide  for  local  and 
temporary  emergencies.  Thus  the  apostles  di- 
rected the  selection  of  seven  men  to  care  for  neg- 
lected widows  in  Jerusalem,  and  Paul  ordained 
elders  to  hold  the  converts  together  in  the  cities 
which  he  visited  in  his  missionary  journeys.  Such 
titles  appear  as  bishops,  priests,  and  deacons, 
pastors,  prophets,  teachers,  and  evangelists.  But 
the  records  give  the  impression  of  informality,  and 

94 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

of  a  tentative  adjustment  to  meet  immediate 
needs. 

Ignatius,  it  is  true,  urges  obedience  to  bishops, 
but  what  he  has  in  mind  seems  to  be  a  loyalty  to 
the  local  minister  in  the  face  of  divisive  individual- 
ism. Irenseus,  indeed,  attaches  much  importance 
to  bishops,  but  chiefly  as  persons  to  whom  in- 
quirers or  doubters  may  be  referred  for  informa- 
tion as  to  the  faith.  It  is  a  curious  story  which 
is  told  of  the  way  in  which  Demetrius,  bishop  of 
Alexandria  in  the  time  of  Origen,  came  to  his  posi- 
tion. From  time  immemorial  the  pastors  of  the 
twelve  city  parishes  had  elected  the  bishop.  But 
Bishop  Julian,  on  his  deathbed,  had  a  vision  of  a 
man  who  should  be  his  successor,  coming  to  him 
with  a  present  of  grapes;  and  as  he  waked  there 
came  out  of  the  country,  bringing  grapes,  the 
peasant  Demetrius,  with  his  wife.  He  was  ac- 
cordingly made  bishop  without  consulting  the 
college  of  presbyters,  and  proved  to  be  a  masterful 
one,  as  Origen  discovered  to  his  cost. 

Thus  we  proceed,  down  the  line  of  saints  and 
confessors,  till  we  come,  in  the  middle  of  the  third 
century,  to  Cyprian.  He  was  the  father  of  eccle- 
siastics as  Origen  was  the  father  of  theologians. 

Cyprian  had  the  spirit  of  the  West,  where  men 
were  interested  in  practical  suggestions  of  admin- 
istration.  He  had  been  a  lawyer  before  he  became 

95 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

a  bishop.  The  eminent  men  of  the  church  in  the 
East  were  successors  of  the  Greek  philosophers. 
Justin,  as  we  have  seen,  wore  his  philosopher's 
cloak  to  the  day  of  his  martyrdom.  Irenaeus  and 
Clement  and  Origen  taught  a  Christian  philoso- 
phy. These  men  and  their  disciples  delighted  in  the 
study  of  theological  problems.  The  Nicene  Creed 
was  framed  in  the  East.  There  were  theologians 
in  the  West,  but  they  cared  more  for  tradition 
than  they  did  for  speculation.  But  the  eminent 
men  of  the  West  were  successors  of  the  Latin 
statesmen.  Their  gift  was  for  order  and  rule. 
They  hated  confusion.  They  prized  efficiency. 
Accordingly,  while  their  brethren  in  the  East  were 
discussing  and  establishing  the  formulation  of 
Christian  thought  in  the  creed,  these  men  were 
discussing  and  establishing  the  organization  of 
Christian  life  in  the  church. 

The  progress  of  this  ecclesiastical  organization 
appears  in  a  series  of  protests.  It  was  vigorously 
opposed  by  the  Montanists,  by  the  Novatians, 
and  by  the  Donatists. 

The  Montanists  first  appeared  in  Phrygia  in  the 
middle  of  the  second  century  when  Montanus 
began  to  proclaim  the  nearness  of  the  Second 
Coming  of  Christ,  and  to  summon  Christians  to 
prepare  for  it  by  a  return  to  primitive  simplicity 
and  severity  of  life.    Montanus  was  a  prophet. 

96 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

In  the  list  of  ministerial  officers  which  St.  Paul 
gives  in  the  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians 
(xii,  28)  the  prophets  are  the  second  order:  "first 
apostles,  secondarily  prophets."  They  are  men- 
tioned in  the  Te  Deum  where  the  "goodly  fellow- 
ship of  the  Prophets"  follows  the  "glorious  com- 
pany of  the  Apostles";  and  it  is  to  these  Christian 
teachers  rather  than  to  men  of  the  Old  Testament 
that  reference  is  made  in  the  phrase,  "who  hast 
built  Thy  Church  upon  the  foundation  of  the  Apos- 
tles and  Prophets."  They  rose  up,  like  the  Old 
Testament  prophets,  at  the  direct  call  of  God, 
having  no  official  appointment.  They  asked  no 
permission  of  any  man.  What  they  spoke  was  by 
inspiration  from  on  high.  Wandering  from  place 
to  place,  speaking  unbidden  in  the  Christian  as- 
semblies to  which  they  came,  they  represented 
all  that  was  free  and  spontaneous  and  informal 
in  primitive  Christianity.  They  expressed  them- 
selves frankly  and  without  mitigation  regarding 
whatever  they  found  amiss. 

Montanus  and  his  followers  found  things  seri- 
ously amiss  in  two  respects. 

They  perceived  the  beginnings  of  secularism. 
There  were  Christians  who  were  in  the  church 
because  they  had  been  brought  up  in  it;  and  others 
who  had  come  because  their  friends  or  relatives 
were  in  it.   Upon  these  Christians  the  burden  of 

97 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  rigorous  life  of  the  gospel  lay  rather  lightly. 
Moreover,  as  the  first  novelty  of  the  Christian 
movement  passed,  the  distinction,  at  first  so  sharp, 
between  the  church  and  the  world  grew  gradually 
obscure.  Many  of  the  Christians  were  content  to 
have  it  so.  They  were  adjusting  themselves  to 
their  environment.  They  perceived  that  it  was 
prudent  to  make  some  reasonable  compromise, 
and  to  concede  to  common  custom  some  matters 
about  which  it  seemed  hardly  necessary  to  con- 
tend. 

For  example,  the  emperor  Severus  gave  a  dona- 
tive to  the  army;  every  man  received  a  piece  of 
money.  On  this  occasion,  the  soldiers  in  Africa 
adorned  their  heads  with  wreaths.  One  Christian 
soldier  refused  to  wear  a  wreath.  The  incident  was 
excitedly  discussed;  the  soldier,  meanwhile,  being 
degraded  from  the  ranks  and  put  in  prison.  Most 
of  the  Christians  condemned  the  soldier.  The 
Montanists  praised  him. 

At  the  same  time,  while  excellent  reasons  might 
be  shown  for  a  sensible  secularism,  it  was  plain 
that  the  main  contention  of  the  Montanists  was 
right.  There  was  a  relaxing  of  discipline,  a  lower- 
ing of  Christian  standards  of  conduct,  an  increas- 
ing concession  to  the  world.  Against  all  this  the 
Montanists  protested.  Montanus,  speaking  by 
the  Holy  Ghost,  called  his  brethren  to  fasting, 

98 


i 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

to  strictness,  even  to  martyrdom.  Looking  for  the 
great  and  dreadful  day  of  the  Lord,  he  tried  to 
purify  the  church. 

The  Montanists  perceived  the  beginnings  not 
only  of  secularism,  but  of  formalism.  Emphasis 
was  being  put  on  order,  and  authority,  and  regu- 
larity. A  difference  was  being  made  between  the 
clergy  and  the  laity.  There  were  now  appointed 
persons  to  whom  were  given  all  the  old  rights  of 
free  speech  and  free  prayer.  Other  people  were  ex- 
pected to  keep  silence.  The  behavior  of  the  con- 
gregation at  Corinth,  where,  as  St.  Paul  said,  when 
they  came  together  every  one  had  a  psalm,  a  doc- 
trine, a  tongue,  or  an  interpretation,  was  now  re- 
garded as  scandalous.  To  the  Montanists,  it  was 
the  ideal  of  Christian  conduct.  They  felt  that  any 
restraint  of  it  was  a  restraint  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
They  were  the  Quakers  of  the  early  church.  The 
Montanists  declined  to  be  bound  by  the  disciplin- 
ary regulations.  They  defied  the  new  distinction 
between  the  presbyter  and  the  people.  They  so 
insisted  on  their  right  to  speak  in  meeting,  and  so 
exercised  that  right  in  season  and  out  of  season, 
that  the  whole  ministry  of  preaching  came  under 
suspicion.  Over  against  the  growing  system  of 
canons  and  rubrics,  they  opposed  the  primitive 
simplicity  of  apostolic  religion. 

The  most  distinguished  Western  Montanist 
99 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

was  Tertullian.  He  was  born  and  brought  up  in 
Carthage,  the  son  of  a  centurion.  These  two  facts 
affected  his  whole  Hfe. 

In  Carthage,  the  hfe  of  the  senses  was  encour- 
aged under  the  patronage  of  pagan  rehgion.  Ter- 
tulHan  was  nurtured  in  it,  harmed  by  it,  and  con- 
verted out  of  it,  and  thereafter  he  hated  it  with  the 
vigorous  hatred  of  reaction.  He  had  been  a  sinner. 
He  knew  by  hard  experience  what  the  world  was. 
He  saw  it  every  day,  cruel  and  foul  and  dominated 
by  the  devil.  The  Montanist  teaching  appealed, 
therefore,  to  his  whole  soul :  the  church  must  have 
no  commerce  with  the  world. 

As  the  son  of  a  soldier,  Tertullian  was  a  fighter. 
His  whole  life,  after  his  conversion,  was  a  contin- 
uous controversy.  He  fought  that  pagan  world 
which  the  Christian  fathers  of  Alexandria  regarded 
so  kindly.  He  denounced  its  sins,  he  scorned  its  re- 
ligion, he  had  no  use  even  for  its  philosophy.  What, 
he  said,  has  the  Church  to  do  with  the  Academy? 
What  kinship  is  there  between  Christ  and  Plato? 
It  was  Tertullian  who  first  clearly  sounded  the 
note  of  the  unhappy  antagonism  between  the 
church  and  the  learning  of  the  world.  He  set 
faith  over  against  reason,  and  cried,  **It  is  certain 
because  it  is  impossible!" 

Tertullian  fought  the  church  also.  He  was  the 
enemy  of  all  worldly  Christians,  whom  he  desired 

100 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OFRELIGtON 

to  see  put  out  of  the  church  and  kept  out.  He  was 
the  Hammer  of  Heretics.  He  wrote  five  books 
"Against  Marcion."  Pontus,  he  says  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  discussion,  is  inhabited  by  the 
fiercest  nations,  who  have  no  fixed  abode,  and  no 
morals.  The  dead  bodies  of  their  parents  they  cut 
up  with  their  sheep,  and  devour  at  their  feasts. 
Their  women  prefer  war  to  marriage.  The  sky 
of  Pontus  is  always  cloudy,  and  the  wind  always 
from  the  north;  all  the  rivers  are  blocked  with  ice. 
Nothing,  however,  in  Pontus  is  so  barbarous  and 
sad  as  the  fact  that  Marcion  was  born  there. 

Finally,  Tertullian  turned  this  zeal  for  invec- 
tive against  the  ecclesiastical  authorities,  whom  he 
rebuked  for  their  conventionalism,  for  their  indif- 
ference, and  for  the  manner  in  which  they  magni- 
fied their  office.  "Are  not  we  laymen  priests  also.'^ " 
he  cried.  Thus  he  separated  himself  from  the 
bishops  and  became  identified  with  Montanism; 
which,  refused  and  expelled,  had  now  become  a 
society  outside  the  church. 

The  Novatians  came  into  existence  by  reason 
of  the  controversy  which  arose  after  the  Decian 
persecutions.  When  the  distresses  were  over,  and 
the  church  resumed  its  normal  life,  there  appeared 
great  numbers  of  lapsed  brethren.  Some  who  had 
not  actually  burned  incense  on  pagan  altars  had 
purchased  certificates  from  the  magistrates  stating 

101 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

that  they  had  done  so;  others  who  had  burned 
incense  and  then  repented  had  papers  signed 
by  martyrs  in  prison  stating  that  they  had  been 
absolved,  or  ought  to  be  absolved.  The  whole 
church  was  in  confusion. 

Under  these  circumstances,  churchmen  took 
two  sides.  Some  were  temperamentally  or  doctri- 
nally  of  a  liberal  spirit,  and  were  in  favor  of  treat- 
ing the  lapsed  gently.  The  absolution  of  the  mar- 
tyrs was  indeed  to  be  set  aside  as  subversive  of 
all  discipline,  but  the  lapsed,  after  proper  penance 
and  probation  were  to  be  restored  to  the  commun- 
ion of  the  church.  Others,  who  were  doctrinally 
or  temperamentally  austere,  were  disposed  to  deal 
with  the  lapsed  severely.  They  denied  the  right 
of  absolution  not  only  to  the  martyrs,  but  to  the 
bishops.  Sin  after  baptism,  they  said,  has  no 
forgiveness  in  this  world. 

The  severe  party  took  its  name  from  Novatian, 
who  having  failed  of  election  to  the  bishopric  of 
Rome  was  thereupon  elected  to  that  office  by  his 
friends.  Thus  the  Novatians  became  a  sect.  The 
most  eminent  opponent  of  the  Novatians  was 
Cyprian. 

Cyprian  had  been  the  most  eloquent  orator  in 
Carthage,  at  a  time  when  oratory  was  greatly 
esteemed.  A  man  of  wealth  and  position,  he  had 
given  up  his  prospects,  and  even  his  property,  to 

102 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

become  a  Christian.  He  had  entered  the  ministry, 
and  shortly  after,  when  the  bishop  died,  the  Chris- 
tian people  by  popular  acclaim  had  called  him  to 
be  bishop.  When  the  Decian  persecution  began, 
Cyprian  had  retired  into  the  country,  deeming 
it  more  important  for  the  church  that  its  leaders 
should  continue  to  lead  than  that  they  should  give 
their  lives  in  martyrdom.  That  this  flight  was 
in  fact  dictated  rather  by  prudence  than  by  fear, 
he  proved  when  the  persecution  was  renewed  by 
Valerian.  He  met  the  Roman  oflScers  with  all  con- 
fidence, proclaimed  himself  a  Christian  and  a 
bishop,  and  was  beheaded. 

To  an  administrative  mind  like  that  of  Cyprian 
the  Novatian  protest  presented  two  questions :  as 
to  the  right  of  the  church  to  absolve,  and  as  to  the 
right  of  churchmen  to  secede. 

The  question  as  to  the  right  of  the  church  to  ab- 
solve he  answered  in  the  affirmative.  Against  those 
who  held  that  the  church  is  a  society  of  saints,  out 
of  which  all  offenders  must  be  permanently  ex- 
pelled, he  held  that  the  church  is  properly  com- 
posed of  those  who  are  striving,  however  unsuc- 
cessfully, after  perfection,  and  that  the  purpose  of 
the  Christian  fraternity  is  to  assist  such  striving 
persons.  The  church,  he  said,  may  determine  its 
own  conditions  of  membership,  and  may  admin- 
ister discipline  according  to  its  own  discretion. 

103 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

The  church,  following  Christ's  commission,  may 
forgive  sins.  That  this  position  represented  the 
general  mind  of  Christendom  is  witnessed  by  the 
phrase  "  the  forgiveness  of  sins,"  as  it  stood  there- 
after in  the  ancient  creeds.  It  follows  "  the  holy 
Catholic  Church,"  the  "one  Catholic  and  Apos- 
tolic Church,"  and  is  the  expression  of  one  of  its 
functions.  It  declares  that  the  forgiveness  of  sins 
is  to  be  sought  in  the  church,  and  that  the  church 
is  holy  in  spite  of  the  presence  of  sinners.^  At  the 
same  time  the  effect  was  to  emphasize  the  nature 
of  the  church  as  a  society  held  together  by  the 
bonds  of  organization,  and  including  saints  and 
sinners,  as  opposed  to  the  idea  of  a  church  invis- 
ible and  spiritual,  a  company  of  faithful  people, 
to  which  they  belonged,  and  they  only,  who  were 
unfailingly  loyal  to  Jesus  Christ. 

The  question  as  to  the  right  of  churchmen  to 
secede,  Cyprian  answered  in  the  negative.  The 
Novatians  had  separated  themselves  from  the 
general  society.  Declining  to  obey  the  bishops 
regularly  appointed,  and  electing  rival  bishops, 
they  had  their  own  complete  independent  organi- 
zation, their  own  buildings,  ministry  and  sacra- 
ments. To  the  Latin  mind,  accustomed  to  the 
order  of  the  empire,  this  was  a  state  of  things  which 
must  not  be  permitted  to  continue.  Indeed,  it  was 

»  McGiffert,  The  Apostles'  Creed,  p.  163. 
104 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

plain  to  all  reflective  persons  that  a  divided 
Christendom,  broken  into  fragments,  disagreeing 
and  competing,  church  against  church,  could  not 
maintain  itself  against  the  hostile  world.  It  was  a 
practical  matter.  The  doctrine  which  was  essen- 
tially involved  in  it  was  no  more  ecclesiastical,  or 
even  religious,  than  the  doctrine  involved  in  the 
American  Civil  War.  It  was  a  matter  of  policy: 
Shall  we  be  a  nation,  or  shall  we  be  a  federation  of 
states,  from  which  any  state  may  withdraw  at  will? 
Shall  we  be  a  church,  or  shall  we  be  a  federation 
of  churches,  from  which  any  company  of  persons, 
on  the  ground  of  disagreement  regarding  faith  or 
discipline,  may  quietly  secede? 

The  question  arose  in  the  case  of  Novatians 
and  other  separated  persons  who  had  been  bap- 
tized by  the  ministers  of  their  sect,  and  now  de- 
sired to  become  members  of  the  historic  church : 
ought  they  to  be  rebaptized?  Cyprian  took  the 
extreme  position.  He  would  recognize  no  validity 
whatever  in  the  acts  of  seceded  churches.  In  this 
he  was  not  supported  by  the  general  opinion.  It 
was  commonly  felt  that,  however  great  the  evil 
of  secession,  the  wise  policy  of  centralization  was 
pushed  too  far  when  it  thus  discredited  the  minis- 
try of  men  whose  chief  fault  was  that  they  were 
more  intent  than  their  neighbors  upon  the  purity 
of  the  church.  It  was  agreed  against  Cyprian  that 

10^ 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  returning  Novatians  need  not  be  baptized 
again. 

But  a  book  which  Cyprian  wrote  on  the  general 
subject,  the  "Unity  of  the  Catholic  Church," 
made  a  profound  and  lasting  impression.  This 
book  is  related  to  the  ecclesiastical  progress  of  the 
early  church  as  the  Nicene  Creed  is  related  to  its 
theological  progress.  Out  of  long  confusion  and 
experiment,  and  in  the  midst  of  conditions  which 
were  compelling  a  definition  of  the  church,  Cyp- 
rian made  a  clear  statement.  It  did  not  appear  to 
him  a  novel  statement,  though  it  had  no  warrant 
in  the  New  Testament;  neither  did  it  seem  origi- 
nal to  his  contemporaries,  for  they  had  been 
gradually  coming  to  a  like  conclusion.  Neverthe- 
less, it  introduced  into  Christian  history  a  prop- 
osition as  new  and  as  radical  as  that  which  was 
afterwards  presented  on  the  other  side  by  Luther. 
Luther  declared  that  all  men  are  in  need  of  the 
grace  of  God,  without  which  they  cannot  be  saved, 
and  that  this  grace  comes  straight  from  God, 
without  the  mediation  of  any  priest  or  rite,  into 
the  heart  of  the  individual.  That  doctrine  began 
the  Reformation  and  the  era  in  which  we  live, 
wherein  the  unit  is  the  individual.  Cyprian  de- 
clared that  all  men  are  in  need  of  the  grace  of  God, 
without  which  they  cannot  be  saved,  and  that  this 
grace  is  to  be  had  only  in  the  church,  into  which 

106 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

it  comes  by  the  medium  of  the  bishop,  who  de- 
rives it  from  the  apostles. 

Ignatius  had  exalted  the  bishop  as  the  head  of 
the  Christian  community,  who  is  to  be  obeyed  as 
the  soldiers  obey  the  captain.  Irenseus  had  exalted 
him  as  the  arbiter  in  disputes  about  the  faith,  hav- 
ing received  the  tradition  of  the  fathers.  Cyprian 
brought  at  last  to  the  episcopal  office  the  sanction 
of  divine  right.  Surrounded  as  the  Christians  were 
by  universal  paganism,  they  breathed  in  out  of 
the  air  the  idea  of  the  bishop  as  a  sacrificing  priest, 
and  the  idea  of  God  as  limiting  His  benediction  to 
the  faithful.  These  ideas  Cyprian  clearly  enunci- 
ated. To  him  the  Novatians  and  other  separatists 
were  like  men  swimming  in  the  rising  waters  of  the 
flood :  their  only  sure  salvation  was  to  get  aboard 
the  ark,  the  church. 

A  third  protest  which  marks  the  further  prog- 
ress of  ecclesiastical  organization  was  made  by 
the  Donatists.  They  came  into  being  in  conse- 
quence of  the  persecution  under  Diocletian,  as  the 
Novatians  had  come  into  being  in  consequence 
of  the  persecution  under  Decius.  The  Diocletian 
persecution  had  been  directed  mainly  against  the 
clergy,  who  were  required  to  surrender  the  church 
books.  When  peace  was  restored  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal standing  of  the  clergy  who  had  made  this  sur- 
render was  called  in  question.    Had  the  traditor, 

107 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

by  the  fact  of  his  treachery,  forfeited  his  orders? 
The  Novatians  had  insisted  that  no  Hbellatic, 
who  had  procured  a  paper  certifying  that  he  had 
offered  incense,  could  be  restored  to  the  means 
of  grace:  he  had  committed  a  sin  beyond  forgive- 
ness. Now  the  Donatists  insisted  that  no  traditor, 
no  clergyman  who  had  given  up  the  sacred  books, 
could  validly  administer  the  means  of  grace. 

As  in  the  case  of  the  Montanists  and  the  Nova- 
tians the  debate  centred  in  Carthage.  Csecilian 
the  archdeacon  had  been  elected  and  duly  conse- 
crated bishop  of  that  city.  But  he  had  enemies. 
Two  of  them  were  trustees  of  the  funds  of  the 
diocese,  whom  Csecilian  had  discovered  to  be  dis- 
honest. One  was  the  lady  Lucilla  whom  Csecilian 
had  rebuked  for  her  habit  of  bringing  to  church 
a  bone  of  a  martyr  and  kissing  it  before  receiving 
the  bread  and  wine.  Another  was  Donatus,  the 
bishop  of  a  neighboring  diocese.  Thus,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  Novatians,  personal  animosities  con- 
fused the  discussion.  Donatus  and  his  friends 
declared  that  Csecilian  had  been  consecrated  by 
a  traditor,  and  that  his  consecration  was  no  con- 
secration, and  they  proceeded  to  put  a  rival  bishop 
in  his  place. 

Whatever  were  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  the 
matter,  the  Donatists  stood  for  the  purity  of  the 
church.   They  insisted  that  the  supreme  quality 

108 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

of  the  minister  is  derived  not  from  his  oflSce,  but 
from  his  character.  They  did  not  demand  an 
impossible  perfection,  but  they  held  that  certain 
sins,  of  which  apostasy  was  one,  destroyed  the 
reality  of  the  ministry.  They  maintained  that  the 
sacraments  administered  by  bad  men  are  invalid. 
An  unholy  ministry,  they  said,  cannot  communi- 
cate to  men  the  grace  of  God.  Their  baptism  is 
no  baptism;  their  eucharist  is  no  eucharist. 

Against  this  position  the  church  in  general  main- 
tained that  such  a  theory  made  all  the  sacra- 
ments uncertain.  Nobody  could  tell  whether  at 
the  moment  of  administration  the  bishop  or  pres- 
byter or  deacon  was  good  enough,  or  not.  The 
church  held  that  the  grace  of  God  is  independent 
of  the  minister. 

The  Donatists  appealed  to  Constantine  shortly 
after  his  conversion,  and  he  appointed  a  commit- 
tee of  bishops  to  hear  their  case.  The  decision  was 
adverse  to  the  plaintiffs,  and  they  appealed  again, 
and  Constantine  called  a  conference  at  Aries 
(314),  interesting  to  us  as  having  been  attended 
by  three  British  bishops.  This  council  confirmed 
the  decision  against  the  Donatists.  Thereupon 
they  rebelled  not  only  against  the  church,  but 
against  the  state.  They  attracted  to  themselves 
those  who  were  fanatical  in  their  religion  and 
revolutionary  in  their  politics.  A  socialistic  strain 

109 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

was  added  to  their  heresy  and  schism.  Vagrants 
and  brigands  came  to  their  assistance,  bringing 
clubs  with  which  they  defaced  the  churches  and 
attacked  the  persons  of  the  orthodox.  The  church 
and  the  state  repHed  with  corresponding  violence. 
At  last,  the  original  grievance  was  forgotten  in 
the  host  of  new  ones. 

Meanwhile,  the  answers  which  were  given  to 
these  various  Protestants  —  Montanist,  Nova- 
tian  and  Donatist  —  had  determined  the  organi- 
zation of  the  church.  Against  the  protest  of  the 
Montanists  a  clear  line  had  been  drawn  between 
the  clergy  and  the  laity,  and  the  functions  of  the 
clergy  had  been  brought  under  the  sober  rule  of 
law  and  order.  Against  the  protest  of  the  Nova- 
tians,  a  line  had  been  drawn  between  the  church 
and  all  separated  Christian  communities,  who 
were  denied  the  right  of  secession,  and  were  in- 
formed that  if  they  seceded  they  were  cut  off 
from  the  means  of  grace.  Against  the  protest  of 
the  Donatists,  a  line  was  drawn  between  the  old 
idea  of  a  personal  ministry  whose  efficiency  de- 
pended on  character  and  the  new  idea  of  an  offi- 
cial ministry  whose  efficiency  depended  on  proper 
appointment. 

At  the  same  time  it  is  plain  that  in  the  middle 
of  the  third  century,  in  the  time  of  Cyprian,  the 
ministers  were  bishops,  priests  and  deacons.  Any 

no 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

congregational  or  presbyterian  experiments  which 
may  have  been  tried  had  failed.  The  primacy  of 
the  bishops  of  Rome  was  only  beginning  to  ap- 
pear. There  was  a  pope  in  Carthage  and  a  pope 
in  Alexandria  as  well  as  a  pope  in  Rome.  These 
prelates  already  interfered  with  the  primitive 
equality  and  independence  of  the  bishops.  But 
none  of  them  controlled  the  general  church. 

II 

While  the  church  in  the  West  was  thus  deter- 
mining the  order  and  function  of  the  ministry, 
the  church  in  the  East  was  developing  and  enrich- 
ing the  forms  of  worship.  The  earliest  liturgies 
are  in  Greek;  in  which  language  St.  Paul  wrote  to 
the  church  in  Rome,  and  St.  Clement  of  Rome 
wrote  from  that  city  to  the  church  in  Corinth. 
The  church  in  Italy  was  a  Greek  mission.  When 
Latin  liturgies  begin  to  appear,  they  are  trans- 
lations, with  some  changes,  from  the  Greek. 

A  description  of  a  church  building  in  the  tenth 
book  of  the  "Ecclesiastical  History  "  of  Eusebius, 
and  a  complete  service  for  the  administration  of 
the  Holy  Communion  in  the  eighth  book  of  the 
"Apostolic  Constitutions,"  enable  us  to  trans- 
port ourselves  in  imagination  into  the  early  years^ 
of  the  fourth  century  and  to  take  part  in  the  pray- 
ers and  praises  of  our  brethren  of  that  day. 

Ill 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

The  Diocletian  persecution,  beginning  with  the 
demolition  of  the  great  church  of  Nicomedia  and 
addressing  itself  to  the  general  destruction  of 
church  buildings,  was  followed  by  a  period  of 
architectural  restoration.  Thus  at  Tyre,  in  315, 
Bishop  Paulinus  built  a  new  and  splendid  church 
on  the  site  which  had  been  strewn  with  the  ruins  of 
the  old.  On  the  occasion  of  the  consecration  of  this 
church.  Bishop  Eusebius  of  Csesarea  preached  the 
sermon,  and  afterwards  published  it  in  his  his- 
tory. In  the  course  of  the  sermon  he  so  referred 
to  various  parts  of  the  church  as  to  direct  not 
only  the  eyes  of  the  congregation,  but  even  the 
minds  of  remote  readers  to  the  general  look  of 
things. 

Tyre,  in  315,  is  still  a  pagan  city.  The  Christian 
congregation  going  to  service  pass  pagan  temples, 
and  recognize  pagan  neighbors  who  took  an  en- 
thusiastic part  in  pulling  down  the  old  church  and 
would  be  glad  to  visit  the  same  zeal  upon  the  new. 
All  the  adult  Christians  know  by  bitter  experience 
the  meaning  of  persecution.  The  first  sight  which 
we  get  of  the  church  shows  the  high  wall  which 
stands  about  it,  facing  the  street.  This  is  a  barrier 
of  stone  a  hundred  and  twenty-nine  feet  in  breadth, 
and  two  hundred  and  twenty-two  in  length.^ 
It  is  lofty  enough  to  afford  seclusion,  and  stout 

»  Thompson,  The  Land  and  the  Book,  p.  189. 
112 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

enough  to  serve  for  defence  in  case  of  another 
pagan  assault.  Passing  through  a  great  gate,  made 
splendid  to  attract  the  eyes  of  strangers  to  the 
faith,  we  enter  a  large  quadrangle,  open  to  the 
sky,  having  pillared  porticoes  on  the  four  sides, 
and  in  the  midst  a  fountain  of  water.  Here  we 
wash  our  hands  before  proceeding  into  the  church, 
symbolizing  the  importance  of  a  pure  heart.  In  the 
latticed  porches  are  people  who  are  under  pen- 
ance. They  are  suffering  the  worst  punishment 
known  at  that  day  to  Christian  men,  being  for- 
bidden to  go  to  church.  They  stand  there  in  the 
vestibule,  asking  our  prayers. 

The  church  has  three  doors,  a  greater  in  the 
midst,  a  lesser  on  each  side.  The  middle  door  is 
adorned  with  plates  of  brass.  The  side  doors  lead 
into  side  aisles  between  the  outer  walls  and  pillars 
which  uphold  the  roof.  The  pillars  are  of  rose- 
colored  granite,  the  ceiling  is  of  cedar;  between  the 
pillars  and  the  walls  are  galleries.  Entering  by 
the  middle  door,  we  stand  in  an  inner  vestibule, 
parted  by  a  low  barrier  from  the  nave.  Here  are 
strangers,  who  have  come  from  curiosity  to  see  the 
church  or  hear  the  sermon;  and  catechumens  who 
are  preparing  for  baptism  and  confirmation;  and 
persons  of  disordered  minds,  "  entangled  by  con- 
trary qualities,"  to  whom  the  church  extends  a 
certain  perplexed  hospitality.    Young  deacons 

113 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

and  deaconesses  in  white  gowns  are  moving 
about  to  see  that  all  the  men  and  women  are  in 
order.  In  the  midst  of  the  nave  is  a  platform  for 
readers  and  singers.  The  floor  is  of  marble.  Texts 
of  Scripture,  and  portraits  of  the  emperor  or  of 
the  bishop  are  painted  on  the  walls. 

The  chancel  is  parted  from  the  nave  by  a  screen 
of  carved  and  latticed  wood,  and  has  a  curtain 
hanging  at  the  door,  ready  to  be  drawn  in  the 
more  solemn  moments  of  the  service.  Beyond  the 
screen  is  the  altar,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
apse.  It  is  a  table  of  wood  covered  with  rich  tap- 
estry, having  as  yet  no  cross  upon  it,  but  adorned 
with  gold  and  silver  cups  and  bowls  and  lighted 
with  silver  lamps.  Behind  the  altar  is  the  high 
seat  of  the  bishop,  with  seats  on  either  side  for  the 
clergy.  To  the  right  of  the  chancel  is  a  room  for 
the  preparation  of  the  bread  and  wine;  to  the  left 
is  a  room  for  the  clergy. 

After  the  record  of  the  words  of  institution,  as 
uttered  by  our  Lord  at  the  Last  Supper,  in  the 
First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  and  in  the  Synop- 
tic Gospels,  the  earliest  of  our  liturgy  sentences 
appear  in  the  Canons  of  Hippolytus,  early  in  the 
third  century.  The  third  canon  gives  these  ver- 
sicles  and  responses:  — 

Let  the  bishop  say :  The  Lord  be  with  you  all. 
Let  the  people  reply :  And  with  thy  spirit. 
114 


THE  ORGANIZATION   OF  RELIGION 

Let  him  say :  Lift  up  your  hearts. 
Answer :  We  lift  them  up  unto  the  Lord. 
Bishop  :  Let  us  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord. 
Answer :  It  is  meet  and  right  so  to  do. 

The  nineteenth  canon  gives  the  words  of  dis- 
tribution :  — 

Let  the  deacon  bring  the  oblation  to  the  bishop. 
And  he  shall  give  thanks  over  a  loaf,  because  it  is  the 
symbol  of  the  flesh  of  Christ,  and  over  a  chalice  of 
wine  because  it  is  the  blood  of  Christ  which  was  out- 
poured for  all  that  believe  in  him,  and  over  milk 
and  honey  mixed,  for  the  fulfilling  of  the  promise 
unto  the  fathers :  for  he  hath  said,  "  I  will  give  unto 
you  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey."  And  when 
the  bishop  has  now  broken  the  bread,  let  him  give  a 
fragment  to  every  one  of  them,  saying,  "This  is  the 
bread  of  heaven,  the  body  of  Jesus  Christ."  Let  him 
also  that  receives  say,"  Amen."  And  if  there  be  not 
a  presbyter  present,  let  the  deacons  take  the  chalice 
and  stand  in  fair  order,  and  give  them  the  blood  of 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  and  the  milk  and  honey.  And 
let  him  that  giveth  the  chalice  say,  "This  is  the  blood 
of, Jesus  Christ  our  Lord."  Let  him  also  that  receives 
again  say,  "Amen."  ^ 

In  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century,  the  Cate- 
chetical Lectures  of  Cyril  of  Jerusalem  and  the 
Sacramentary  of  Serapion  describe  the  order  of 
the  eucharistic  service  and  give  the  words  of  some 
of  the  prayers. 

Cyril  instructs  his  confirmation  class  in  the 

*  Brightman,  Eastern  Liturgies,  p.  463. 
115 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

order  and  meaning  of  the  Holy  Communion.  The 
deacon,  he  says,  gives  the  priest  water  to  wash 
his  hands;  the  men  of  the  congregation  greet  the 
men,  and  the  women  greet  the  women,  with  the 
kiss  of  peace.  Then  the  priest  cries  aloud,  "Lift 
up  your  hearts,'*  and  you  answer,  "We  lift  them 
up  unto  the  Lord."  The  priest  says,  "Let  us  give 
thanks  unto  the  Lord,"  and  you  say,  "It  is  meet 
and  right."  A  long  thanksgiving  follows,  cul- 
minating in  the  ascription,  "Holy,  holy,  holy,  is 
the  Lord  of  Sabaoth."  No  mention  is  made  of  the 
words  of  institution;  perhaps  kept  secret  till  the 
catechumen  is  actually  admitted  to  the  Sacra- 
ment. But  there  is  a  prayer  for  the  descent  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  that  he  may  make  the  bread  the 
body  of  Christ,  and  the  wine  the  blood  of  Christ. 
Prayers  are  made  for  the  living  and  for  the  dead, 
ending  with  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Then  the  priest 
cries,  "Holy  things  to  holy  persons,"  and  you 
say,  "One  is  holy,  one  is  the  Lord,  even  Jesus 
Christ."  Cyril  tells  them  to  receive  the  bread, 
"making  the  left  hand  a  throne  for  the  right." 
The  service  ends  with  renewed  prayer  and 
thanksgiving. 

Serapion  begins  with,  "It  is  meet  and  right," 
and  gives  the  actual  words  of  the  service  as  he 
said  it,  in  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century  in  his 
diocese  in  the  Delta  of  the  Nile.  A  long  thanks- 

116 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

giving  rises  to  the  "Holy,  holy,  holy.  Lord  of 
Sabaoth,  full  is  the  heaven  and  the  earth  of 
thy  glory."  The  words  of  institution  are  recited. 
"The  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in  the  night  in  which  He 
was  betrayed,  took  bread,  and  brake  and  gave  to 
His  disciples,  saying.  Take  and  eat;  this  is  my 
body  which  is  being  broken  for  you.  Wherefore  we 
also  making  the  likeness  of  the  death  have  offered 
the  bread,  and  we  beseech  thee  through  this  sac- 
rifice be  reconciled  to  all  of  us,  and  be  merciful,  O 
God  of  truth.  And  as  this  bread  had  been  scattered 
on  the  top  of  the  mountains  and,  gathered  together, 
came  to  be  one,  so  also  gather  thy  holy  church 
out  of  every  nation  and  every  country  and  city  and 
village  and  house,  and  make  one  living  Catholic 
Church."  Similarly,  the  wine  is  offered.  An  in- 
vocation of  the  Holy  Spirit  follows,  then  inter- 
cessions. Then  the  people  receive  the  bread  and 
wine. 

To  the  same  period  belongs  the  liturgy  named 
from  St.  Clement  of  Rome  in  the  Apostolic  Con- 
stitutions. The  name  is  of  no  historic  significance, 
and  the  attributing  of  the  whole  through  Clement 
to  the  apostles  is  only  a  literary  device;  the  value 
of  the  account  for  us  is  that  it  preserves  not  only 
the  order  but  the  words  of  the  service  of  the  fourth 
century.  Harnack's  date  for  the  Apostolic  Con- 
stitutions is  about  340,  but  the  liturgy  here  con- 

117 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

tained  is  neither  original  nor  novel.  It  is  a  fair 
conjecture  that  after  this  manner  the  service  was 
said  in  that  church  in  Tyre  which  the  sermon 
of  Eusebius  enables  us  to  visit. 

Passing,  then,  into  the  nave,  and  joining  the 
company  of  the  faithful  who  are  there  assembled, 
the  men  on  one  side  and  the  women  on  the  other, 
we  hear  the  reader  beginning  the  service  from  the 
high  platform  in  the  midst.  He  reads  two  lessons 
from  the  Old  Testament;  then  a  single  voice  sings 
several  psalms,  the  people  joining  "  at  the  conclu- 
sions of  the  verses";  then  is  read  a  passage  from 
an  epistle,  and  then  a  passage  from  a  gospel.  And 
while  the  gospel  is  read  all  the  clergy  and  people 
"stand  up  in  great  silence."  Sermons  follow, 
"  Let  the  presbyters  one  by  one,  not  all  together, 
exhort  the  people,  and  the  bishop  in  the  last 
place,  as  being  the  commander."  The  preacher 
stands  on  the  raised  platform,  or  on  the  chancel 
step.  The  deacons  move  about  and  "  oversee  the 
people,  that  nobody  may  whisper,  nor  slumber, 
nor  laugh,  nor  nod."  Then  the  inner  vestibule  is 
cleared.  First  the  hearers,  strangers,  unbelievers, 
are  dismissed;  then  the  catechumens,  then  the 
energumens  —  the  crazy  people  —  then  the  peni- 
tents go  out,  each  group  dismissed  in  order  after 
prayer  and  blessing.  Only  the  faithful,  the  com- 
municants, remain;  among  them  the  children  who 

118 


THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  RELIGION 

are  assembled  at  the  reading  desk  under  the  care 
of  a  deacon. 

The  service  begins  again  with  a  long  prayer  for 
Christ's  Church  militant.  The  kiss  of  peace  is 
given.  The  oflSciating  priests  wash  their  hands. 
The  deacons  bring  the  bread  and  wine  to  the 
Lord's  table.  Two  of  them,  on  each  side  of  the 
altar,  having  fans  of  peacock  feathers,  drive  away 
the  flies.  The  celebrant  puts  on  a  shining  garment. 
Then  standing  at  the  altar,  and  making  the  sign 
of  the  cross,  he  says,  "The  grace  of  Almighty 
God,  and  the  love  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
the  fellowship  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  be  with  you  all." 
We  reply,  "And  with  thy  spirit."  "Lift  up  your 
mind."  "We  lift  it  up  unto  the  Lord."  "Let  us 
give  thanks  to  the  Lord."  **It  is  meet  and  right 
so  to  do."  "It  is  very  meet  and  right,"  the  priest 
repeats,  "to  sing  praise  unto  thee."  And  praises 
follow,  at  great  length,  for  all  the  blessings  of 
creation,  until  the  worshippers  join  their  voices 
with  the  angels  and  archangels,  crying,  "Holy, 
holy,  holy.  Lord  God  of  hosts,  heaven  and  earth 
are  full  of  His  glory.  Blessed  be  thou  forever. 
Amen." 

Again  the  praises  are  renewed  for  all  the  bless- 
ings of  salvation,  coming  presently  to  the  night 
when  He  who  was  betrayed  took  bread,  and  brake 
it,  and  poured  the  wine  and  gave  it  to  His  dis- 

119 


•THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

ciples.  Long  intercessions  follow,  till  the  bishop 
cries, "  Holy  things  to  holy  persons,"  and  the  peo- 
ple answer,  "There  is  one  that  is  holy,  there  is 
one  Lord,  one  Jesus  Christ,  blessed  forever  to  the 
glory  of  God  the  Father.  Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest,  and  on  earth  peace,  good-will  toward 
men.  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David!  Blessed  be 
He  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  Ho- 
sanna in  the  highest!" 

Then  the  clergy  partake  of  the  bread  and  wine 
and  afterward  the  people  in  order;  the  ministrant 
saying,  "The  body  of  Christ,"  "The  blood  of 
Christ,  the  cup  of  life,"  to  which  we  reply,"  Amen." 
There  is  a  prayer  of  dedication,  and  a  prayer  of 
benediction;  after  which  the  deacon  cries,  "De- 
part in  peace." 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   ARIAN   DEBATE 


CONSTANTINE,  being  the  imperial  ruler  of 
Britain  and  Gaul,  and  Maxentius,  being  the 
imperial  ruler  of  Italy,  Spain  and  Roman  Africa, 
the  two  fell  to  fighting  for  undivided  power. 
Down  came  Constantine  out  of  Britain;  in  Gaul 
he  reinforced  his  army;  he  crossed  the  Alps;  at 
Verona  he  won  a  victory;  and  finally,  at  the 
Milvian  Bridge  over  the  Tiber,  he  found  Max- 
entius holding  the  road  to  Rome.  The  soldiers 
of  Constantine  forced  the  soldiers  of  Maxentius 
back  into  the  river,  and  Maxentius  himself  was 
drowned. 

It  was  on  his  way  to  this  decisive  battle  that 
Constantine  was  suddenly  converted. 
I  Our  knowledge  of  the  event  comes  mainly  from 
Eusebius  of  Csesarea,  the  preacher  of  the  sermon 
at  the  consecration  of  the  church  in  Tyre,  who 
was  informed  by  Constantine  himself.  On  a  day 
in  October,  312,  Constantine  with  his  army  was 
making  his  difficult  way  over  the  Alps.  In  the 
blaze  of  noon,  "  he  saw  with  his  own  eyes,"  says 
Eusebius,  "  the  trophy  of  a  cross  of  light  in  the 

121 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

heavens,  above  the  brightness  of  the  sun,  and 
bearing  the  inscription,  *  By  this  conquer'  {rovTcp 
viKo),*'  That  night  Christ  appeared  in  a  dream 
and  told  him  to  make  a  likeness  of  the  celestial 
cross  as  a  protection  against  his  enemies.  This  he 
did  in  the  form  of  a  monogram  of  the  first  two 
letters  of  the  name  Christ  in  Greek  (>p:),  and 
under  banners  and  behind  shields  thus  emblazoned 
he  marched  to  victory. 

That  the  course  of  history  has  been  deter- 
mined on  several  occasions  by  the  experience  of  a 
vision  is  a  phenomenon  which  is  substantially  at- 
tested. Saul  of  Tarsus  saw  a  strange  sight  on  the 
road  to  Damascus,  and  was  changed  thereby  from 
a  purpose  to  persecute  the  Christians  to  a  posi- 
tion of  singularly  influential  leadership  among 
them.  Augustine  heard  a  sound  of  words  at  Milan 
which  suddenly  brought  him  out  of  indifference 
and  doubt  into  a  faith  which  mightily  affected 
Christian  theology  for  a  thousand  years,  and  af- 
fects it  still. 

A  vision,  however,  is  only  in  part  a  matter  of 
the  senses.  Whatever  the  external  facts  may  be, 
the  determining  sight  is  seen  with  the  eyes  of  the 
mind,  and  the  determining  words  are  heard  with 
the  hearing  of  the  mind.  And  the  mind  sees  and 
hears  what  it  brings  of  sight  and  hearing.  And 
this  depends  on   the  preparation   of  previous 

122 


I 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

thought  and  experience.  So  it  was  with  Saul. 
The  vision  seemed  as  sudden  as  a  flash  of  light- 
ning; but  the  suddenness  of  lightning  is  only  in 
appearance,  it  is  the  result  of  a  long  and  gradual 
assembling  of  forces.  The  whole  life  of  Saul  had 
made  him  ready  for  that  day.  So  it  was  with  Con- 
stantine. 

Diocletian,  in  his  reorganization  of  the  empire, 
had  found  himself  confronted  by  the  Christians. 
They  made  up  one  twelfth  of  the  population, 
and  their  influence  was  out  of  all  proportion  to 
their  number.  They  were  constantly  enlisting  the 
allegiance  of  men  of  outstanding  character  and 
ability.  It  was  plain  to  the  emperor  that  he  must 
either  be  the  head  of  the  Christian  Church  or  its 
destroyer.   He  resolved  to  destroy  it. 

With  this  resolution  the  father  of  Constantine 
was  not  in  sympathy.  Constantius  took  such  part 
in  the  general  persecution  as  the  necessities  of  his 
position  demanded,  but  in  his  portion  of  the  em- 
pire the  campaign  was  not  carried  on  with  rigor. 
The  young  prince,  his  son,  shared  in  his  father's 
counsels,  and  partook  of  his  spirit. 

The  event  had  revealed  the  folly  of  Diocletian, 
and  had  justified  the  wisdom  of  Constantius. 
It  had  proved,  by  the  hard  test  of  persecution, 
that  the  church  could  not  be  destroyed.  The  al- 
ternative, then,  was  alliance.    He  who  would  be 

123 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

master  of  Rome,  —  so  it  appeared  to  the  clear 
mind  of  Constantine,  —  must  have  the  Christians 
on  his  side. 

With  these  thoughts  in  his  heart,  at  a  critical 
moment  in  his  life,  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  the  ob- 
ject of  which  was  to  gain  the  Roman  throne,  Con- 
stantine saw  a  shining  object  in  the  sky  which  he 
perceived  to  be  the  Cross  of  Christ. 

The  conversion  of  Constantine  was  at  the  same 
time  a  victory  for  Christianity  and  a  defeat.  The 
new  religion  triumphed  with  the  converted  em- 
peror. The  edict  of  toleration  which  was  issued 
in  313  put  a  definite  end  to  persecution.  Thence- 
forth the  Roman  world  which  had  been  officially 
pagan  was  officially  Christian.  But  it  was  like 
the  triumph  of  the  Romans  over  the  Greeks, 
wherein  the  Romans  held  the  power  of  position, 
but  the  Greeks  retained  the  power  of  influence. 
The  world  against  which  the  saints  had  protested 
came  into  alliance  with  the  church.  The  current 
standards  of  life  lowered  the  Christian  standards. 
The  current  philosophy  affected  the  Christian 
theology. 

We  stand  with  Constantine  where  two  rivers 
meet.  One  is  the  Christian  river,  having  its  rise 
in  Judaism,  bringing  down  Jewish  and  Christian 
elements  together.  The  other  is  the  pagan  river, 
formed  from  a  hundred  contributory  streams, 

1^ 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

bringing  myths  and  legends,  ceremonies  of  wor- 
ship, mysteries,  gods  and  goddesses,  ancient  cus- 
toms, ancient  interpretations  of  the  world.  At 
this  point  the  rivers  join  to  form  the  Church 
Catholic,  from  this  moment  a  world  religion. 
Christian  and  pagan,  having  its  sources  no  lon- 
ger in  Jerusalem  and  in  Antioch  alone,  but  in 
the  springs  of  all  the  hills  of  history,  and  in  the 
brooks  which  flow  through  all  the  valleys  of 
the  past.  The  conversion  of  Constantine  diverted 
not  only  the  Jordan  and  the  Orontes,  but  the 
Euphrates  and  the  Tigris,  and  the  Nile,  the  Dan- 
ube and  the  Rhine,  and  made  them  flow  into 
the  channel  of  the  Tiber. 

II 

The  first  rush  of  the  new  current  endangered 
not  only  the  morals  but  the  essential  beliefs  of 
Christians.  It  was  by  no  accidental  coincidence 
that  the  Edict  of  Toleration  was  speedily  followed 
by  the  Arian  Debate. 

The  central  assertion  of  all  advanced  philos- 
ophy and  religion  is  the  assertion  of  the  unity  of 
God.  In  the  fourth  century  it  was  a  commonplace 
of  educated  thought.   Behind  the  gods  was  God. 

But  pagan  philosophers  were  denying  either  the 
personality  or  the  presence  of  God.  The  Epicu- 
reans and  the  Stoics  denied  His  personality,  mak- 

125 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

ing  Him  identical  with  Chance  or  Fate,  and  the 
Gnostics  and  the  Neoplatonists  were  denying  His 
presence,  conceiving  of  Him  as  infinitely  removed 
from  the  affairs  of  the  world.  Pagan  priests  were 
indeed  ministering  to  the  instinct  which  craves 
relationship  with  God.  Mithraism  was  providing 
in  Mithra  a  mediator  between  God  and  man.  But 
Mithra  was  a  celestial  figure  whose  only  dwell- 
ing was  in  a  Persian  dream.  He  had  no  actual 
existence. 

The  characteristic  assertion  of  Christianity  was 
the  declaration  of  the  divinity  of  Christ.  Here, 
they  said,  is  the  true  bond  of  union  between  God 
and  man,  in  Him  who  is  at  the  same  time  God 
and  man. 

The  first  task  of  Christian  theologians  had 
been  that  of  affirmation :  thus  they  had  met  the 
Ebionites,  who  denied  the  divinity  of  Jesus,  and 
maintained  that  He  was  only  a  man  like  us.  And 
thus  they  had  met  the  Docetics,  who  denied  the 
humanity  of  Jesus,  holding  that  his  human  form 
and  life  were  not  in  reality  but  only  in  appear- 
ance. These  affirmations  they  based,  without 
much  discussion,  on  the  revelation  contained  in 
Holy  Scripture. 

But  the  task  of  affirmation  was  followed  of 
necessity  by  the  task  of  interpretation.  Admit- 
ting that  the  Scriptures  assert  the  divinity  of 

126 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

Christ,  how,  then,  is  the  divine  Christ  related  to 
the  one  only  God?  The  Sabellians  explained  the 
relation  as  consisting  in  distinction  of  activity. 
When  we  think  of  God  as  the  maker  and  main- 
tainer  of  the  universe,  we  call  Him  the  Father; 
when  we  think  of  Him  as  in  Christ  for  the  re- 
demption of  mankind,  we  call  Him  the  Son.  God 
is  eternally  one  and  the  same,  but  we  speak  of 
Him  under  different  names.  Against  this  explana- 
tion, however,  there  was  a  general  protest.  Con- 
servative theologians  held  that  it  destroyed  the 
Christian  religion  by  destroying  the  reality  of 
Christ.  Christ,  according  to  this  doctrine,  was 
absorbed  in  God. 

The  discussion  was  at  this  stage  of  progress, 
with  Sabellianism  in  common  disfavor,  when  a 
clergyman  in  Alexandria  publicly  accused  his 
bishop  of  holding  the  Sabellian  heresy.  The  ac- 
cusing clergyman  was  Arius,  the  rector  of  the 
Church  of  Baucalis,  the  largest  in  the  city.  He 
was  sixty  years  of  age,  dignified  in  appearance, 
austere  and  blameless  in  life,  learned,  eloquent 
and  pious,  the  most  popular  of  the  Alexandrian 
clergy.  The  Son,  said  Arius,  is  not  —  as  Bishop 
Alexander  and  the  Sabellians  falsely  affirm  — 
identical  with  the  Father.  How  can  a  son  be  iden- 
tical with  a  father?  There  is  one  God,  the  Father, 
from  whom  the  Son  is  derived,  and  to  whom  the 

127 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Son  is  inferior.  The  Father  is  the  Creator,  eter- 
nally existing,  before  all  time;  the  Son  is  created 
—  there  was  a  time  (if  we  may  use  the  word 
"time"  of  conditions  so  infinitely  remote)  — 
there  was  a  time  when  He  was  not. 

Thus  over  against  the  endeavor  of  the  Sabel- 
lians  to  reconcile  the  divinity  of  Christ  with  the 
unity  of  God  by  identification,  appeared  the 
endeavor  of  the  Arians  to  reconcile  the  divinity 
of  Christ  with  the  unity  of  God  by  distinction.. 

Immediately  the  church  in  Alexandria  was 
divided  into  two  contending  parties,  some  siding 
with  Alexander,  some  with  Arius.  Alexander  ap- 
pealed to  his  neighbors,  the  bishops  of  Egypt, 
summoning  a  council  by  whose  action  Arius  was 
excommunicated.  Arius  appealed  to  his  friends 
among  the  bishops  of  Syria:  Eusebius  of  Csesarea, 
Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  influential  persons  in  the 
Court  of  Constantine.  By  them  he  was  sustained. 

The  subtlety  of  the  question  was  equalled  only 
by  the  fury  with  which  it  was  discussed.  The  de- 
bate was  conducted  with  the  violence  of  a  political 
convention.  Everybody  entered  into  it.  Men  who 
met  to  transact  business  neglected  their  bargain- 
ing to  talk  theology.  If  one  said  to  the  baker, 
"How  much  is  the  loaf?"  he  would  answer,  "The 
Son  is  subordinate  to  the  Father."  If  one  sent  a 
servant  on  an  errand,  he  would  reply,  "The  Son 

128 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

arose  out  of  nothing."  Arius  put  his  doctrine  into 
verse,  to  popular  tunes,  and  it  was  sung  and 
whistled  in  the  streets.  The  arguments  were 
punctuated  with  fists  and  clubs. 

The  news  of  this  dissension  disturbed  the  Chris- 
tian emperor.  Hoping  by  his  espousal  of  Chris- 
tianity to  unify  the  empire,  he  was  distressed  to 
find  that  the  Christians  were  themselves  divided. 
He  wrote  to  Alexander  and  to  Arius,  with  a  nat- 
ural misunderstanding  of  the  seriousness  of  the 
matter,  and  urged  them  to  be  reconciled  and  keep 
the  peace.  Believe  in  God,  he  said,  and  do  not 
disturb  yourselves  concerning  questions  which  no 
man  can  answer.  But  the  letter  did  no  good;  the 
strife  continued  and  increased.  At  last  the  em- 
peror, to  regain  peace,  determined  upon  the  wise 
expedient  of  a  free  and  representative  assembly. 
He  would  have  a  meeting  and  conference  of  the 
chief  men  of  the  Christian  religion. 
y  Thus  was  convened,  in  the  early  summer  of  325, 
the  Council  of  Nicsea. 

i  Asia  Minor,  bounded  on  the  north  by  the  Black 
Sea  and  on  the  west  by  the  iEgean,  holds  between 
the  two,  at  its  northwest  corner,  the  Sea  of  Mar- 
mora, —  the  Propontis,  —  connected  with  the 
Black  Sea  by  the  Bosphorus,  and  with  the  iEgean 
by  the  Hellespont.  Opening  into  the  Propontis 
from  the  east  are  a  bay  and  a  lake.   On  the  bay 

129 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

isNicomedia,  then  the  capital  of  the  empire  of  the 
East,  and  the  residence  of  Constantine;  on  the 
lake  is  Nicsea. 

Over  the  long  roads,  from  all  directions,  borne 
in  conveyances  provided  by  the  emperor,  came 
the  bishops.  The  number  of  them  is  uncertain, 
though  tradition  finally  placed  it  at  three  hundred 
and  eighteen,  attracted  by  the  coincidence  with 
the  number  of  the  armed  servants  whom  Abra- 
ham took  to  rout  the  invading  kings.  Most  of 
them  were  from  the  East;  partly  because  the  place 
of  meeting  was  in  that  region,  but  partly  also 
because  the  church  was  still  an  Eastern  Church. 
The  West  was  missionary  ground.  Moreover,  the 
subject  of  discussion  was  congenial  with  the  East- 
ern mind;  it  was  foreign  to  the  practical  interests 
of  the  West.  The  council  was  essentially  an  East- 
ern conference.  The  discussions  were  carried  on  in 
Greek;  the  resulting  creed  was  not  only  in  Greek, 
but  its  distinctive  words  were  found  afterwards  to 
be  almost  incapable  of  translation  into  Latin. 

Indeed,  of  the  three  hundred  bishops,  only  five 
are  known  to  have  come  from  Latin  Christendom : 
from  Spain  one  —  Hosius  of  Cordova,  the  em- 
peror's "  chaplain  "  in  the  West;  from  Carthage 
one  —  Caecilian,  who  had  contended  with  the 
Donatists;  one  from  Calabria,  one  from  Gaul,  one 
from  Pannonia. 

ISO 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

But  the  Westerns  were  not  missed  in  the  throng 
of  Easterns.  From  the  cities  which  Paul  had 
evangelized  came  the  bishops  of  Greece  and  Asia 
Minor.  One  was  Spyridion  of  Cyprus,  a  shepherd 
bishop,  who  in  the  intervals  of  his  episcopal  duties 
still  watched  his  flock;  a  simple,  homely  man, 
whose  embalmed  body  is  to  this  day  carried  twice 
a  year  about  the  streets  of  Corfu  in  procession; 
one  may  still  look  upon  the  hands  which  signed 
the  Nicene  Creed.  Another  was  Acesius,  a  stout 
separatist,  who  believed  that  only  he  and  a  few 
like-minded  with  him  would  be  saved,  to  whom 
Constantine  is  reported  to  have  said,  "Acesius, 
plant  a  ladder  and  climb  up  into  heaven  by  your- 
self." To  these  a  pleasant  legend  adds  St.  Nicho- 
las of  Myra,  patron  of  the  festivities  of  Christmas, 
even  Santa  Claus  himself,  who  appears  in  an  an- 
cient picture  of  the  council  in  the  act  of  giving 
Arius  a  great  box  on  the  ear. 

From  Syria  came  Eusebius  of  Csesarea,  the  em- 
peror's Eastern  "  chaplain,"  a  great  prelate  and  a 
fair  historian,  afterwards  biographer  of  Constan- 
tine; and  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  and  Eustathius 
of  Antioch,  and  Bishop  John  from  Persia;  and 
Bishop  Jacob  from  Mesopotamia,  who  had  been  a 
hermit,  and  still  wore  his  cloak  of  goat's  hair. 

From  Egypt  came  Potammon  and  Paphnutius, 
each  of  whom  had  lost  an  eye  in  the  Diocletian 

131 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

persecution.  Indeed,  many  of  the  bishops  bore 
the  honorable  marks  of  torture.  From  Alexandria 
came  the  bishop,  Alexander,  bringing  with  him  as 
chaplain  and  secretary  a  young  deacon,  named 
Athanasius.  Also  came  the  minister  of  the  parish 
of  Baucalis,  the  heretic  Arius. 

In  the  place  of  meeting  long  benches  were  set 
against  the  walls  on  either  side,  upon  which  sat 
the  bishops  with  their  attendant  clergy.  In  the 
middle  of  the  room  upon  a  chair  lay  a  copy  of  the 
Gospels,  a  symbol  of  the  presence  of  Him  in  whose 
name  and  for  whose  honor  they  were  assembled. 
At  the  end  of  the  room  was  a  seat  for  the  emperor. 
Silence  was  called  as  he  approached;  all  rose  as  he 
entered.  They  said  afterward  that  he  looked  like 
an  angel  from  heaven.  Indeed,  to  any  eyes  the 
face  and  figure  of  Constantine  fitted  his  high  posi- 
tion. He  was  tall  and  stalwart;  his  beard  was  short, 
his  hair  fell  upon  his  shoulders;  his  purple  robe 
was  of  silk  embroidered  with  gold  and  pearls;  he 
wore  his  crown;  his  eyes,  they  said,  flashed  like 
the  eyes  of  a  lion.  He  seemed  as  much  impressed 
by  the  situation  as  they  were,  being  at  first  doubt- 
ful whether  to  stand  or  sit,  till  they  beckoned  lo 
him  to  be  seated.  A  speech  of  welcome  and  grati- 
tude was  made,  a  gracious  response  was  returned, 
and  the  sessions  of  the  council  were  formally 
begun. 

132 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

How  long  the  fathers  sat  in  conference  is  not 
known;  neither  is  there  any  satisfactory  record 
of  the  progress  of  the  debate. 

It  is  remembered  that  early  in  the  proceed- 
ings the  emperor  brought  in  a  package  of  letters, 
and  caused  a  fire  to  be  made  in  a  brazier  in  the 
hall,  and  burned  the  letters  in  the  presence  of 
the  bishops.  These,  he  said,  are  communications 
which  you  have  Sent  to  me  making  complaints 
and  accusations  one  against  another.  He  begged 
them  to  be  brotherly,  to  put  their  bickerings  aside, 
and  cultivate  the  virtues  of  peace. 

As  regards  the  main  purpose  of  their  meeting, 
however,  they  seem  to  have  been,  for  the  most 
part,  agreed.  They  found  the  doctrines  of  Arius 
novel  and  objectionable.  It  is  said  that  when 
some  of  the  songs  of  Arius  were  recited  to  the 
council,  the  bishops  clapped  their  hands  over 
their  ears,  and  shut  their  eyes.  Eusebius  of  Nico- 
media  presented  a  creed  setting  forth  the  Arian 
ideas,  and  it  was  torn  in  pieces.  Arius  appeared  to 
have  few  friends. 

When  it  came,  however,  to  the  formulation  of 
an  acceptable  creed,  much  difficulty  was  encoun- 
tered. The  general  church  possessed  no  creed. 
There  were  many  statements  of  belief,  used 
mainly  in  the  sacrament  of  baptism,  expressing 
in  a  manner  which  gradually  had  approached  to 

133 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

uniformity  the  mind  of  the  church  respecting  mat- 
ters which  had  been  brought  into  controversy. 
In  the  West,  the  short  formula  called  the  Apostles' 
Creed  had  gained  wide  acceptance.  In  the  East, 
the  local  creeds  tended  to  greater  length.  Euse- 
bius  of  Csesarea  recited  one  which  was  in  common 
use  in  his  diocese.  It  seemed  to  the  fathers  to  be 
both  true  and  sufficient.  Indeed,  they  were  on  the 
point  of  accepting  it,  when  they  perceived  that  it 
was  equally  acceptable  to  the  Arians. 

With  such  a  condition  of  happy  agreement  a 
conference  in  search  of  working  unity  would  have 
been  satisfied.  Within  the  safe  limits  of  such  an 
inclusive  formula  they  would  have  been  content 
to  leave  conflicting  details  for  future  peaceful 
settlement,  or  even  to  have  permitted  a  difference 
of  opinion  regarding  matters  which  seemed  so  far 
beyond  all  human  understanding.  It  was  plain, 
however,  to  the  Nicene  fathers  that  the  debate 
concerned  the  essential  nature  of  the  Christian 
religion.  They  saw  in  the  doctrines  of  Arius  a  new 
invasion  of  old  paganism.  If  Christ,  as  he  said, 
was  an  inferior  god,  then  Christianity  recognized 
two  gods;  and  if  two,  why  not  twenty?  If  the 
god  Christ,  why  not  the  god  Mithra?  Why  not 
the  gods  of  Greece  and  Rome?  Why  not  the  end- 
less seons  of  the  Neoplatonists?  Where  was  the 
line  between  Christianity  and  polytheism?  And  if 

134 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

polytheism  were  readmitted  into  theology,  what 
power  could  keep  it  out  of  morals?  The  world  was 
still  pagan;  the  Christians  were  still  in  minority. 
The  emperor,  indeed,  was  on  their  side,  but  the 
emperor  himself  was  almost  as  much  a  pagan  as 
he  was  a  Christian;  he  had  not  been  baptized;  in 
Rome  he  was  still  Pontifex  Maximus,  the  oflScial 
head  of  the  old  religion. 

Under  these  conditions  Arius  came,  a  Christian 
polytheist.  He  came  asking  the  recognition  and 
approval  of  the  church.  The  Nicene  fathers 
saw  behind  him,  waiting  for  the  opening  of  the 
gates,  all  that  pagan  world  with  which  they 
had  contended,  against  which  they  had  suffered 
martyrdom,  over  which  they  had  for  the  moment 
triumphed.  The  pagan  world,  which  had  endeav- 
ored in  vain  to  conquer  the  church  by  vio- 
lence, was  now  endeavoring  to  conquer  it  by 
subtlety. 

Thus  when  the  creed  which  Eusebius  offered 
was  found  to  be  so  phrased  that  the  Arians  were 
willing  to  sign  it,  the  fathers  proceeded  deliber- 
ately to  insert  into  it  a  word  which  the  Arians 
could  not  accept.  This  they  found  in  the  expres- 
sion homoousios,  which  we  translate  by  the  phrase 
"of  one  substance."  Jesus  Christ,  they  said,  is  of 
one  substance  with  the  Father.  The  word  was  not 
contained  in  Holy  Scripture.  It  had  the  further 

135 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

disadvantage  of  having  been  formally  condemned 
and  rejected  in  the  discussion  of  the  heresy  of 
Paul  of  Samosata  (268).  But  it  met  the  neces- 
sities of  the  occasion.  It  expressed  the  mind  of 
the  orthodox,  and  no  consistent  Arian  could  pro- 
nounce it.  The  word  was  therefore  written  into 
the  Eusebian  formula,  and  the  church  was  thus 
provided  with  a  creed. 

We  believe  in  one  God,  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of 
all  things  visible  and  invisible.  And  in  one  Lord,  Jesus 
Christ,  the  son  of  God,  begotten  of  His  Father,  only- 
begotten,  that  is  of  the  substance  (ousia)  of  the  Father, 
God  of  God  and  Light  of  Light,  very  God  of  very  God,  be- 
gotten not  made,  of  one  substance  (homoousios)  with  the 
Father,  by  whom  all  things  were  made,  both  things  in 
heaven  and  things  on  earth,  who  for  us  men  and  for 
our  salvation,  came  down  from  heaven  and  was  made 
flesh,  and  was  made  man,  suffered,  and  rose  again  on 
the  third  day,  went  up  into  the  heavens,  and  is  to  come 
again  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead.  And  in  the  Holy 
Spirit, 

This  creed  was  signed.  Arius  and  those  who 
were  loyal  to  his  doctrines  were  excommunicated. 
The  emperor  added  the  sentence  of  exile.  Several 
lesser  matters  were  considered  and  decided.  Then 
the  council  was  adjourned.  The  bishops  returned 
to  their  dioceses  satisfied  that  the  crisis  was  over, 
and  that  the  great  question  was  successfully  and 
definitely  settled. 

136 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

III 

But  the  conference  at  Nicsea  was  like  the  con- 
ference at  Jerusalem,  which  is  reported  in  the 
Acts  of  the  Apostles.  The  fathers  and  brethren  at 
Jerusalem  disposed,  as  they  thought,  of  the  diflS- 
culties  involved  in  the  relation  of  Christianity  to 
Judaism.  They  put  Judaism  out.  They  resolved 
that  the  Christian  Church  was  an  independent 
society,  in  no  wise  bound  by  the  ceremonial  laws 
which  were  written  in  the  Bible.  It  was  not  nec- 
essary, they  said,  to  keep  the  law  of  Moses  in 
order  to  be  a  Christian.  But  the  apparently 
unanimous  decision  of  the  conference  was  only 
the  beginning  of  debate.  St.  Paul,  all  his  life 
long,  was  hindered  and  opposed  by  conservative 
Christian  brethren  who  refused  to  accept  the 
rulings  of  the  Council  of  Jerusalem.  The  matter 
was  too  great  and  vital  to  be  finally  determined 
by  any  single  assembly. 

So  it  was  with  the  Council  of  Nicsea.  Even  on 
the  journey  home,  the  fathers  who  had  signed  the 
creed  began  to  be  perplexed.  Some  of  them  were 
plain  persons  who  felt  that  they  had  involved 
themselves  in  metaphysics  beyond  their  under- 
standing. It  seemed  to  them  that  the  simplicity 
of  the  gospel  had  been  lost  in  the  debate.  Some 
of  them  objected  to  the  Nicene  Creed  on  the 

137 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

ground  that  it  had  introduced  into  religion  a  new 
and  unproved  word,  of  which  the  apostles  had 
had  no  knowledge.  Some  of  them  perceived  on 
reflection  that  the  diflficulties  which  had  been  re- 
vealed by  Arius  were  real  and  serious,  and  were 
not  satisfactorily  settled  by  the  taking  of  a  vote. 
Certain  influential  bishops,  such  as  Eusebius  of 
Csesarea  and  Eusebius  of  Nicomedia,  had  been 
on  the  side  of  Arius  from  the  beginning,  and 
had  not  been  convinced  by  the  action  of  the 
council.  They  had  signed  the  creed,  but  with 
reservations.  And  these  bishops  were  in  a  posi- 
tion to  determine  the  opinion  of  the  imperial 
court. 

Moreover,  in  the  air  which  ^11  the  Christians 
breathed  was  the  spirit  of  paganism,  with  which 
Arianism  was  in  subtle  accord.  Among  the  new 
Christians  who  had  been  attracted  to  the  church, 
not  by  any  deep  conviction  but  by  the  imperial 
approval,  there  were  many  who  had  been  nur- 
tured in  polytheism,  to  whom  it  seemed  reason- 
able that  there  should  be  superior  and  inferior 
deities.  It  seemed  to  them  that  Arius,  making 
Christ  a  lesser  god,  was  reconciling  Christianity 
with  the  doctrines  of  the  philosophers,  with  the 
teachings  of  the  ancient  religions,  and  with  the 
general  wisdom  of  the  world.  Hardly,  then,  had 
the  Nicene  Creed  been  signed  when  the  orthodox 

138 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

found  themselves  to  their  surprise,  facing  an  Arian 
reaction. 

In  the  long  and  bitter  contention  which  ensued, 
the  faith  of  Nicsea  was  defended  and  finally  pre- 
served by  the  courage  and  wisdom  of  Athanasius. 

Athanasius  was  a  native  of  Alexandria,  where 
he  had  lived  as  a  youth  in  the  household  of  the 
bishop  and  had  studied  in  the  catechetical  school. 
Before  the  meeting  of  the  Council  of  Nicsea  he 
had  been  ordained  a  deacon  and  had  written  a 
book  on  the  Incarnation.  When  he  accompanied 
Bishop  Alexander  to  the  council  he  was  twenty- 
eight  years  of  age.  Soon  after  the  adjournment  of 
the  council  the  bishop  died,  and  Athanasius  was 
chosen  in  his  place.  The  city  of  Alexandria  was 
at  that  time  as  preeminent  in  the  East  as  Rome 
was  in  the  West.  Even  the  founding  of  Con- 
stantinople as  a  "New  Rome"  served  rather  to 
strengthen  than  to  weaken  the  pride  of  the  capi- 
tal of  Egypt.  The  bishops  of  the  two  cities  con- 
tended for  a  supremacy  which  neither  would 
yield  to  the  other.  Thus  Athanasius  was  equipped 
for  leadership  by  his  high  position,  as  well  as 
by  his  strong  conviction.  At  the  same  time  the 
rivalry  of  the  cities  —  Arian  Constantinople 
against  orthodox  Alexandria  —  complicated  the 
theological  contention  from  the  start. 

The  first  campaign  in  the  war  of  the  theolo- 
139 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

gians  extended  to  the  death  of  Constantine,  in 
337.  The  Nicene  Creed  remained  formally  in 
force,  though  many  construed  its  articles  so 
loosely  as  to  defeat  its  purpose.  Constantine 
would  not  permit  any  open  attack  upon  it,  but 
the  bishops  who  were  closest  to  him  were  friends 
of  Arius.  These  Arian  sympathizers  and  their 
followers  busied  themselves  during  the  emperor's 
lifetime  with  attacks  not  upon  the  doctrine,  but 
upon  the  administration  of  Athanasius. 

The  bishop  of  Alexandria  held  a  diflGicult  posi- 
tion. The  clergy  of  the  city  could  not  forget  the 
time  when  their  bishop  was  not  only  elected  but 
consecrated  by  themselves,  and  differed  from 
them  in  office  hardly  more  than  a  chairman  differs 
from  the  members  of  a  committee.^  They  asserted 
a  traditional  independence.  One  of  them  had  dis- 
turbed the  episcopate  of  Alexander  by  ordaining 
priests  and  deacons  in  his  own  right.  They  were 
now  divided  by  the  controversy  which  Arius  had 
started. 

Moreover,  the  Meletians  were  making  trouble. 
Meletius,  a  bishop  of  Upper  Egypt,  had  taken  the 
austere  side  in  the  debate  concerning  the  resto- 
ration of  apostates,  against  the  compassionate 
position  of  the  bishop  of  Alexandria  of  his  day, 
and  had  established  schismatic  parishes  which 

*  Duchesne,  Early  History  of  the  Church,  I,  69;  n,  99. 
140 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

called  themselves  the  "Churches  of  the  Martyrs.'* 
These  churches  vexed  the  soul  of  Athanasius, 
and  he  attacked  them  with  the  inconsiderate  en- 
thusiasm of  youth.  They  complained  of  him  to 
Constantine. 

They  said  that  Athanasius  had  sent  emissaries 
to  a  Meletian  priest  named  Ischyras,  and  that 
they  had  overthrown  his  altar  and  sacrilegiously 
broken  his  chalice.  Athanasius  was  compelled  to 
appear  before  Constantine  and  explain  the  mat- 
ter. This  he  did  by  the  testimony  of  witnesses 
who  showed  that  messengers  did  indeed  go  from 
Athanasius,  but  that  they  found  Ischyras  ill  in 
bed,  so  that  any  disturbance  of  a  service  was 
impossible. 

Then  they  brought  against  the  bishop  the  accu- 
sation of  the  Dead  Hand.  They  said  that  he  had 
murdered  Arsenius,  a  Meletian  bishop,  and  had 
cut  off  his  right  hand  to  use  for  purposes  of  magic. 
Arsenius  had  certainly  disappeared,  and  the  ac- 
cusers had  the  dead  hand  in  their  possession. 
To  meet  this  charge,  Athanasius  was  summoned 
to  be  tried  by  his  brethren.  The  court  sat  at 
Tyre,  in  the  church  at  whose  consecration  Euse- 
bius  had  preached.  The  bishops  who  composed 
the  council  were  of  the  Arjan  side.  Athanasius 
was  confronted  by  his  enemies.  Standing  there, 
however,  to  be  tried  for  murder,  Athanasius  beck- 

141 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

oned  to  a  veiled  figure  at  the  back  of  the  church, 
and  when  this  mysterious  person  came  forward 
and  removed  his  veil,  behold  the  bishop  Arsenius 
himself,  not  only  alive,  but  having  his  two  hands ! 
Even  the  most  hostile  court  could  hardly,  under 
these  circumstances,  pronounce  Athanasius  guilty. 
They  did,  however,  return  to  the  charge  of  the 
broken  chalice,  and  on  that  charge  and  other 
accusations  of  violent  action  condemned  and 
deposed  him. 

Immediately,  Athanasius  took  ship  and  went 
to  Constantinople.  He  put  himself  in  the  way  of 
the  emperor  and  demanded  a  fair  hearing.  There- 
upon the  bishops,  who  had  now  gone  to  Jerusa- 
lem to  consecrate  the  new  church  which  Constan- 
tine,  at  the  suggestion  of  Helena  his  mother,  had 
built  over  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  withdrew  the 
matter  of  the  chalice  and  accused  Athanasius 
of  threatening  to  hold  back  the  corn  fleet,  which 
carried  the  produce  of  the  granaries  of  Egypt  to 
the  markets  of  Constantinople.  Then  Constan- 
tine  perceiving  in  the  midst  of  these  perplexities 
that  Athanasius  had  many  enemies,  and  prob- 
ably suspecting  that  he  had  done  something  to 
deserve  their  hostility,  cleared  his  mind  of  the 
matter,  and  restored,  as  he  hoped,  the  peace  of 
the  church,  by  sending  the  accused  bishop  into 
banishment  in  Gaul. 

142 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

During  his  residence  in  Gaul,  Athanasius  re- 
ceived word  of  the  death  of  Arius.  Arius  had  been 
recalled  from  exile  by  the  influence  of  his  friends 
at  court,  and  had  succeeded  in  convincing  Con- 
stantine  of  his  suflficient  orthodoxy.  The  emperor 
had  ordered  the  aged  bishop  of  Constantinople 
to  receive  the  heretic  on  a  certain  day  in  the 
church,  and  to  admit  him  to  the  Holy  Commun- 
ion. So  important  an  event  —  whether  it  indi- 
cated the  conversion  or  the  triumph  of  Arius  — 
was  to  be  made  an  occasion  of  some  festivity. 
The  heretic  was  to  go  to  the  sacrament  attended 
by  a  procession  of  his  friends.  But  Arius  was 
overtaken  by  a  sudden  hemorrhage,  and  his 
friends  found  him  dead.  Thus  he  passed  out  of 
the  world  into  which  he  had  introduced  so  much 
confusion,  a  man  of  eighty  years,  honest,  devout, 
of  stainless  character,  having  the  courage  of  his 
convictions,  maintaining  what  he  believed  to  be 
the  truth  in  the  face  of  the  church  which  he 
believed'  to  be  mistaken,  suffering  hatred  and 
exile  and  the  loss  of  all  things,  that  he  might  keep 
unbroken  his  loyalty  to  his  reason  and  his  con- 
science. We  should  remember  him  with  respect; 
remembering  at  the  same  time  that  had  his  her- 
esy prevailed  the  Christian  religion  —  as  Carlyle 
said  —  would  have  been  degraded  to  a  legend. 

The  death  of  Arius  was  followed  by  the  death 
143 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

of  Constantine.  In  his  last  hours  the  emperor  put 
off  his  robe  of  imperial  purple,  and  was  attired 
in  the  white  garments  which  were  worn  by  those 
about  to  be  baptized,  and  was  admitted  at  last 
into  the  membership  of  the  church  over  which  he 
had  so  long  presided  as  the  bishop  of  the  bish- 
ops. In  Rome  his  monument  was  set  among  the 
statues  of  the  divine  emperors  with  the  ceremo- 
nies of  the  old  religion,  but  in  Constantinople 
he  was  buried  by  the  Christians,  and  about  his 
tomb  stood  the  twelve  pillars  which  symbolized 
the  twelve  apostles. 

-  The  second  campaign  in  the  contention  between 
the  Athanasians  and  the  Arians  extended  to  the 
death  of  Constantine's  son,  the  emperor  Constan- 
tius,  in  361.  It  was  a  time  of  theological  discussion. 
During  this  period  no  less  than  twelve  councils 
of  bishops  were  convened,  until  the  pagans  com- 
plained that  the  Christians  had  ruined  the  postal 
service  by  using  the  horses  to  convey  them  to  the 
synods.  Some  of  these  meetings  were  held  in  the 
East,  some  in  the  West,  some  in  the  East  and  in  the 
West  at  the  same  time,  the  different  parties  hold- 
ing separate  sessions.  The  East  and  the  West 
took  temperamentally  characteristic  positions: 
the  speculative  East  eager  to  discuss  the  Nicene 
Creed  and  to  amend  it,  the  practical  West  con- 
tent for  the  most  part  to  take  it  as  it  stood. 

144 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

Almost  every  council  made  its  own  creed. 
There  appeared  four  creeds  of  Antioch,  in  the 
main  orthodox  but  declining  to  use  the  test 
word  homoousios.  There  appeared  four  creeds  of 
Sirmium,  departing  farther  and  farther  from  the 
orthodoxy  of  Nicaea.  The  second  creed  of  Sir- 
mium was  signed  by  Hosius,  the  veteran  of  the 
Nicene  Council,  now  an  aged  and  broken  man. 
The  creed  of  Ariminum  (Rimini),  dictated  to  the 
council  by  Arian  leaders  with  whom  the  fathers 
conferred  at  Nice  in  Thrace,  was  signed  by  Libe- 
rius,  bishop  of  Rome.  "The  whole  world,"  said 
Jerome,  "groaned,  and  was  amazed  to  find  itself 
Arian." 

But  Constantius  failed  to  overcome  Athanasius. 
At  first  he  had  recalled  him  from  his  banishment 
in  Gaul,  only  to  send  him  again  into  banishment 
in  Rome.  From  Rome  he  was  recalled,  and  the 
day  of  his  return  to  Alexandria  was  long  remem- 
bered as  the  festival  "when  Pope  Athanasius 
came  home."  The  people  thronged  the  streets 
to  meet  him  with  palm  branches  and  fireworks. 
For  five  years  he  administered  his  diocese,  and 
wrote  letters  and  sermons  and  books  in  explana- 
tion and  defence  of  the  Nicene  Creed. 

Then  finding  that  neither  the  imperial  favor 
nor  the  imperial  disfavor  moved  him,  Constan- 
tius drove  the  bishop  out  of  Alexandria  with 

14^ 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

soldiers.  He  made  his  way  into  the  Nitrian 
deserts,  among  the  monks  and  hermits,  where  he 
spent  six  years  in  hiding.  The  world  seemed  to 
be  against  him,  and  he  alone  against  the  world. 
The  state  was  Arian;  the  church  was  Arian. 
Everywhere  the  bishops  were  setting  their  signa- 
tures to  Arian  creeds.  He  was  in  the  exceedingly 
dijBScult  position  of  one  who  finds  himself  in  dis- 
agreement with  the  church,  and  yet  knows  that 
the  truth  which  he  maintains  is  the  truth  of  God. 
Shall  he  go  out?  Shall  he  say,  "My  understand- 
ing of  the  creed  is  disallowed  by  the  majority  of 
my  brethren;  on  all  sides  the  bishops  are  against 
me;  I  must  resign  my  place"?  Happily  not. 
Athanasius  believed  that  the  church  exists  not 
for  the  maintenance  of  any  position  theological 
or  ecclesiastical,  but  solely  for  the  maintenance  of 
the  truth.  Whatever  is  true,  is  of  the  essence 
of  the  church.  Whatever  is  false,  though  it  be 
reiterated  by  endless  councils,  and  confirmed  by 
excommunication  and  anathema,  is  nevertheless 
nothing  at  all  but  heresy  and  schism  and  a  lie,  to 
be  opposed  by  every  honest  man;  to  be  opposed 
for  the  sake  of  the  church  as  well  as  for  the  sake 
of  the  truth,  and  within  the  church. 

The  third  campaign  in  the  Arian  war  began 
with  the  accession  of  Julian  and  ended  with  the 
death  of  Valens. 

146 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

Julian,  abandoning  the  religion  which  seemed 
to  him  a  hopeless  tangle  of  controversy  and  en- 
deavoring to  restore  the  paganism  of  the  great 
days  of  Rome,  brought  back  all  the  exiled  bish- 
ops, hoping  that  the  Christians  being  left  to  fight 
their  quarrels  out  with  no  restraint  would  so  de- 
stroy the  church  that  it  would  disappear  like  a 
bad  dream.  But  when  Julian's  brief  reign  ended 
in  defeat,  it  was  the  Arians  in  whom  his  hostile 
expectations  were  fulfilled.  They  were  divided 
by  the  bitter  discussions  in  the  councils.  All 
their  initial  differences  were  magnified.  There 
appeared  now  not  only  Arians,  but  conservative 
Arians  and  radical  Arians.  Many  who  had  been 
in  sympathy  with  the  Arian  ideas  were  weary  of 
the  Arian  debates.  Many  were  scandalized  by 
the  spectacle  of  conventions  of  bishops  set  upon 
by  Arian  soldiers  and  compelled  to  sign  their 
names  to  Arian  creeds. 

When  Valens  came  to  the  throne  he  increased 
the  confusion  by  taking  the  side  of  one  Arian 
party  against  another.  Thus  they  fought  among 
themselves  as  Julian  had  devoutly  hoped  they 
would.  In  378,  when  Valens  fell  at  the  battle  of 
Adrianople,  in  his  war  against  the  Goths,  Arianism 
as  an  organized  party  in  the  church  came  prac- 
tically to  an  end. 

By  this  time  Athanasius  had  come  to  the  end 
147 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

of  his  life  of  long  contention,  seeing  victory  and 
peace  afar  off,  yet  not  entering  himself  into  the 
new  era.  At  a  council  held  in  Alexandria  in  362, 
he  made  a  notable  contribution  both  to  the  the- 
ology and  to  the  religion  of  the  debating  Chris- 
tians. He  discussed  the  words  which  were  in  use 
in  the  controversy  and  showed  how  a  great  part 
of  the  contention  was  due  to  a  failure  to  define 
the  terms.  What  we  anti-Arians  mean,  he  said,  is 
this  and  this;  and  the  more  reasonable  of  his  oppo- 
nents found  themselves  in  substantial  agreement 
with  him,  after  all.  The  result  was  the  formation 
of  a  **  New  Nicene"  party  which  was  able  to  com- 
mend its  theological  position  to  the  general  Chris- 
tian mind.  The  difficulty  throughout  had  been  the 
danger,  on  the  one  side,  of  a  doctrine  which  rec- 
ognized a  superior  god  and  one  or  two  inferior 
gods,  and,  on  the  other  side,  of  a  doctrine  which 
recognized  in  the  "Son"  and  the  "Holy  Spirit" 
only  names  to  distinguish  functions  or  activities 
of  God  the  Father.  The  church  was  in  peril  of 
shipwreck  between  the  Scylla  of  Arianism  and  the 
Charybdis  of  Sabellianism.  What  they  did  under 
the  leadership  of  Athanasius  at  the  Council  of 
Alexandria  was  to  state  the  difference  between 
ousia  and  hypostasis  :  hypostasis  signifying  a  dis- 
tinction of  being,  roughly  and  inadequately  trans- 
lated out  of  Latin  into  English  by  the  word  person; 

148 


THE  ARIAN  DEBATE 

ousia  signifying  a  common  essence  or  being, 
translated  out  of  Latin  into  English  by  the  word 
substance.  We  believe,  they  said,  in  one  ousia 
and  three  hypostases,  in  one  substance  and  three 
persons.  This,  said  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  was 
more  honorable  and  important  and  profitable 
than  all  the  books  which  Athanasius  wrote. 

The  Athanasian  Creed  is  so  called  because  of 
its  expression  of  Athanasian  orthodoxy.  It  was 
composed  in  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  prob- 
ably in  Lerins  in  Gaul,  and  shows  the  influence 
of  the  theological  teachings  of  Augustine. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MONASTICISM   IN   THE  EAST 
basil:   GREGORY 


AT  the  heart  of  monasticism  is  the  vision  of 
an  ideal  life.  The  true  monk  desires  to  get 
away  from  the  temptation  and  distraction  of  the 
world,  that  he  may  dwell  with  God. 

The  belief  that  such  a  life  could  thus  be  real- 
ized was  based  on  arguments  derived  from  psy- 
chology and  from  philosophy. 

The  psychological  reason  for  monasticism  was 
drawn  from  the  fact  that  the  body  affects  the  soul. 
Let  us  shut  out  all  disquieting  sounds  and  dis- 
turbing voices,  and  continue  in  silence,  that  we 
may  have  a  composed  spirit.  Let  us  build  a  wall 
between  us  and  the  pride  of  the  eye,  that  we  may 
not  see  the  splendor  of  the  world  nor  be  exposed 
to  its  solicitations.  Especially,  let  us  live  in  such 
a  state  that  we  may  be  free  to  discipline  the  body, 
to  bring  it  into  bondage  that  our  soul  may  be  at 
liberty,  to  minimize  it  for  the  magnifying  of  our 
spirit.  It  was  discovered  by  primitive  man  that 
fasting  induces  a  certain  psychological  condition, 
wherein,  the  body  being  abandoned  and  forgotten, 

150 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

the  soul  sees  visions  and  hears  voices,  and  attains 
the  beatitude  of  ecstasy.  It  was  found  that  pro- 
tracted abstinence  produced  a  gradual  intoxica- 
tion of  the  soul.  It  became  one  of  the  unsus- 
pected luxuries  of  the  saints. 

The  philosophical  reason  for  monasticism  was 
drawn  from  the  theory  that  the  body  corrupts  the 
soul.  Matter  being  essentially  evil,  and  the  body 
being  the  source  of  all  sin,  our  proper  procedure  is 
to  make  the  body  weak.  Only  by  ascetic  practices 
may  we  attain  the  victory  of  the  spirit.  The  idea 
first  appeared  as  heresy,  being  the  doctrine  of 
the  Gnostics  and  of  the  Neoplatonists,  but  it  took 
possession  of  the  general  mind.  Especially  in  the 
East,  it  poisoned  the  souls  of  the  saints.  At  its 
worst,  it  brought  into  being  the  mad  monks  —  the 
grazing  saints,  who  went  about  on  their  hands  and 
knees  and  ate  grass;  the  pillar  saints,  like  Simeon 
Stylites;  the  chained  saints,  so  fastened  together 
that  when  one  lay  down  to  sleep  the  other  was 
pulled  up  to  pray.  At  its  best,  it  made  religion 
morbid,  defying  nature,  contradicting  the  revela- 
tion of  the  will  of  God  in  the  body  of  man,  and 
glorifying  hunger  and  thirst,  and  rags  and  celi- 
bacy and  dirt,  driving  the  saints  into  the  deserts. 

The  tendency  toward  monasticism,  psychologi- 
cal and  philosophical,  was  assisted  by  the  hard- 
ness and  the  badness  of  the  world. 

151 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

It  was  a  hard  world  out  of  which  men  fled  to 
save  their  lives.  Some  abandoned  it  on  account  of 
the  cost  of  living.  The  burden  of  expense  was 
made  uncommonly  heavy  in  the  fourth  century 
by  a  new  method  of  financial  administration  in 
the  empire.  The  patrician  class,  including  many 
very  rich  men,  was  exempt  from  taxation.  The 
slave  class  could  not  be  taxed.  Accordingly,  all 
the  responsibility  for  maintaining  the  government 
was  put  upon  the  plebeians,  the  men  of  business, 
merchants  and  manufacturers.  They  were  com- 
pelled to  serve  in  the  curia  of  their  town,  and  in 
that  capacity  had  to  pay  the  assessed  taxes  out  of 
their  own  pockets.  Thus  they  were  at  first  im- 
poverished and  then  ruined,  and  finally  taxed  out 
of  existence.  Some  of  them  fled  from  the  world. 
They  sought  the  simple  life  of  the  monastery. 

The  heaviest  hardship  of  the  time  was  the 
continual  tragedy  of  war.  It  was  a  universal 
curse.  The  contentions  of  the  Christians  among 
themselves,  in  riotous  councils,  in  street  fights,  in 
pitched  battles,  continued  until  the  defeat  and 
death  of  the  emperor  Valens.  And  the  victors  at 
Adrianople  were  the  barbarians,  whose  victory 
predicted  the  fall  of  the  empire.  These  enemies 
occupied  northern  Europe  and  extended  as  far 
east  as  the  boundaries  of  China.  In  the  third  cen- 
tury of  our  era,  a  tribe  of  them,  the  Huns,  being 

152 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

defeated  by  the  Chinese,  were  driven  west.  On 
their  forced  march  they  pushed  against  the  Goths. 
The  Goths,  thus  beset,  gained  permission  from 
the  Romans  to  cross  the  Danube,  and  settled  in 
Thrace.  There  were  more  than  a  million  of  them. 
They  became  an  intolerable  menace.  At  last 
Valens  attacked  them,  and  was  defeated,  and  the 
Roman  army  was  ingloriously  overwhelmed. 

The  Roman  Empire  received  its  death  wound 
on  that  day.  Thereafter,  Goths,  Huns  and  Van- 
dals constantly  beset  the  civilized  frontier.  They 
were  like  the  Indians  in  the  early  days  of  Ameri- 
can colonization.  The  annals  of  the  time  are  filled 
with  the  sackings  of  cities,  and  with  the  mur- 
derous pillage  of  the  countryside.  Out  of  these 
troubles  men  sought  safety  in  the  monastic  life. 
They  made  their  way  into  remote  and  desert 
regions,  into  the  wilderness,  into  the  bleak  moun- 
tains, to  get  out  of  the  reach  of  these  invading 
savages. 

The  world  was  not  only  hard  but  bad,  and  men 
went  out  of  it  to  save  their  souls.  One  day,  in 
Egypt,  about  the  beginning  of  the  last  quarter  of 
the  third  century  (there  is  no  definite  record  of 
either  date  or  place)  a  young  man  named  Antony, 
hearing  in  church  the  word  of  the  Lord,  "If  thou 
wouldest  be  perfect,  go,  sell  that  thou  hast,  and 
give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure 

153 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

in  heaven:  and  come,  follow  me,"  obeyed.  The 
three  hundred  acres  which  he  had  inherited  from 
his  father  he  divided  among  his  neighbors,  and 
betook  himself  to  the  desert.  There  he  won  those 
victories  over  divers  temptations  which  Athana- 
sius  made  famous  in  the  book  which  he  wrote 
about  him.  He  was  the  first  known  pioneer  of 
Christian  monasticism. 

Two  contemporary  witnesses,  one  pagan,  the 
other  Christian,  testify  to  the  prevailing  wicked- 
ness of  the  world  of  the  fourth  century.  The  pa- 
gan witness  is  the  honest  historian  Ammianus 
Marcellinus.  He  found  the  rich  proud,  selfish 
and  cruel;  he  criticised  their  extravagance  in 
dress,  their  enthusiastic  racing  and  gambling, 
their  excesses  in  eating  and  drinking.  He  found 
the  poor  pauperized  and  corrupted  by  state  aid, 
fed  at  the  public  cost  with  corn,  wine,  oil  and 
pork,  and  provided  with  free  tickets  to  the  plays 
and  games  which  confirmed  their  brutality  and 
lust.  The  Christian  witness  is  St.  Jerome.  He 
describes  society  as  tainted  in  every  place  with 
sensuality,  a  huge  sin  against  the  seventh  com- 
mandment. These  men  were  contemporaries  in 
Rome  in  the  fourth  century.  It  is  true  that  Am- 
mianus was  an  old  soldier,  and  that  Jerome  was 
an  ascetic;  and  that  they  were  thus  inclined  to 
Judge  their  neighbors  with  severity.    There  is 

154 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

plenty  of  other  evidence,  however,  that  the  nomi- 
nal conversion  of  the  Roman  Empire  to  the  Chris- 
tian religion  had  effected  no  visible  improvement 
in  the  common  morals.  The  world  was  worse 
rather  than  better.  Out  of  its  besetting  tempta- 
tions men  fled  to  save  their  souls. 

They  fled  from  the  world,  which  in  the  first 
century  was  believed  by  the  Christians  to  be 
doomed,  and  liable  to  be  destroyed  by  divine  fire 
before  the  end  of  the  year,  and  which  in  the 
fourth  century  was  believed  by  the  Christians  to 
be  damned:  it  belonged  to  the  devil.  They  fled 
also  from  the  church,  which  they  accused  of  secu- 
larity  and  of  hypocrisy.  Many  of  the  monks  were 
laymen,  who  in  deep  disgust  had  forsaken  the 
services  and  sacraments.  They  said  their  own 
prayers  and  sought  God  in  their  own  way,  asking 
no  aid  from  priests.  They  were  men  who  had 
resolved  never  to  go  to  church  again. 

Antony  was  a  hermit  rather  than  a  monk.  Find- 
ing a  deserted  fort  on  the  bank  of  the  Nile,  oppo- 
site the  Fayum,  he  made  its  walls  a  barrier  be- 
tween him  and  all  mankind.  He  came  not  out, 
nor  saw  the  face  of  man,  for  twenty  years.  But  in 
the  meantime  others  of  like  mind,  fugitives  like 
himself  from  the  hardness  and  the  badness  of  the 
world,  had  gathered  about  him.  They  had  built 
their  huts  around  his  fort  like  the  tents  of  a  be- 

155 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

sieging  army.  They  felt  that  to  be  near  to  him, 
even  though  they  could  not  see  him,  was  to  be 
near  to  God  in  whose  presence  he  lived.  Thus  the 
name  "monk"  (monos),  which  at  first  had  meant 
one  who  lives  alone,  came  to  mean  one  who  indeed 
lives  alone  but  in  company  with  many  others  also 
living  alone  in  the  same  neighborhood.  Antony 
found  himself  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  soli- 
taries. At  last  he  came  out,  in  response  to  their 
calls,  and  taught  them  the  rules  which  he  had 
adopted  for  himself. 

The  next  step  was  taken,  a  few  years  later,  by 
Pachomius.  In  southern  Egypt,  near  Dendera, 
he  organized  the  monks  among  whom  he  lived 
into  a  community.  Under  his  leadership  their 
huts  were  arranged  in  rows,  and  the  lane  (laura) 
between  them  gave  the  name  "laura"  to  this  first 
monastery.  He  suggested  a  habit,  a  tunic  of 
white  sheepskin  with  a  hood.  Their  prescribed 
food  was  bread  and  water,  with  a  little  fruit  and 
vegetables,  once  a  day.  Pachomius  appointed 
hours  for  prayer.  Common  meals  and  common 
prayers  necessitated  a  refectory  and  a  chapel. 
The  life  of  the  community  was  made  more  normal 
and  healthful  by  the  undertaking  of  regulated 
work:  the  brothers  tilled  the  ground,  and  made 
mats  and  baskets  which  were  sold  for  their  sup- 
port. Pachomius  founded  nine  such  monasteries 

156 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

for  men  and  one  for  women,  all  under  the  same 
rule,  and  the  number  of  these  communities  in- 
creased rapidly. 

Thus  beside  the  informal,  partially  regulated, 
Antonian  monasticism  of  northern  Egypt,  grew 
this  Pachomian  monasticism  of  southern  Egypt, 
in  which  the  principle  of  solitude  was  displaced,  in 
great  measure,  by  the  principle  of  brotherhood. 
The  banks  of  the  Nile  and  the  adjacent  deserts 
were  populated  by  these  devotees. 

II 

In  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century,  at  a  time 
when  there  were  no  communities  of  monks  out- 
side of  Egypt,  two  young  men  at  the  University 
of  Athens  determined  to  take  up  the  monastic 
life.  One  was  named  Basil,  the  other  was  named 
Gregory. 

Cappadocia,  the  district  from  which  these 
two  men  came,  had  an  unsavory  reputation  in 
the  contemporary  world.  Cappadocia,  Caria  and 
Crete  were  called  "the  three  bad  K's"  {tria  kappa 
Tcakista).  Men  who  had  their  residence  in  more 
favored  regions  liked  to  tell  how  a  viper  bit  a 
Cappadocian,  and  the  viper  died.  It  was  a  for- 
lorn land,  they  said,  buried  under  snow  in  winter, 
and  inhabited  by  timid  and  treacherous  people. 
It  lay  to  the  south  of  Pontus,  the  country  so 

157 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

maligned  by  TertuUian  in  his  attack  on  Marcion. 
Nevertheless,  Cappadocia  had  already  produced 
an  eminent  saint  in  Apollonius  of  Tyana,  the  ac- 
count of  whose  life  was  read  by  the  Neoplaton- 
ists  as  the  Christians  read  the  Gospels.  And  the 
glimpses  which  we  get  of  the  homes  of  these 
youths  are  revelations  of  good  Christian  living. 

Basil's  grandfather  and  grandmother  had  suf- 
fered in  the  Diocletian  persecution,  and  for  seven 
years  had  lived  in  the  wild  woods  of  Pontus.  His 
father,  a  man  of  wealth,  was  a  famous  teacher 
of  rhetoric;  his  mother  was  celebrated  for  her 
beauty.  Of  their  nine  children,  —  four  sons  and 
five  daughters,  —  three  sons  and  three  daughters 
were  canonized  as  saints.  The  son  who  did  not 
become  a  saint  was  a  lawyer,  and  attained  emi- 
nence as  a  judge;  nothing  is  known  of  the  un- 
sainted  daughters.  Basil  was  at  first  taught  at 
home  by  his  father,  and  then  sent  to  school  in  the 
Cappadocian  Csesarea.  There  he  met  Gregory. 

Gregory's  father  was  a  bishop,  whose  diocese 
consisted  of  his  own  little  town.  He  had  once  be- 
longed to  an  obscure  sect  in  which  Christianity 
was  mingled  with  Persian  and  Hebrew  elements; 
fire  was  revered  as  the  symbol  of  God,  and  the 
Sabbath  was  rigorously  kept.  There  were  many 
such  bishops,  each  in  his  village  church,  like  the 
early  Congregational  ministers  of  New  England. 

158 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

And  there  were  many  such  sects,  little  experi- 
ments in  Christian  eclecticism.  Gregory's  mother, 
however,  was  a  person  of  such  strictness  of  devo- 
tion, and  so  remote  from  any  idea  of  compromise, 
that  she  would  not  even  look  at  a  pagan  temple 
when  she  passed  it  in  the  street.  She  took  him  to 
church,  from  the  days  of  his  earliest  childhood, 
and  dedicated  him  to  the  ministry.  She  did  not, 
however,  have  him  baptized :  that  was  not  yet  the 
rule.  Presently  he  was  sent  to  study  in  Csesarea. 

The  two  friends  went  up  to  the  University  of 
Athens:  first  Gregory,  then  Basil.  Years  after, 
when  Gregory  preached  the  sermon  at  the  funeral 
of  Basil,  he  recalled  their  student  days  together, 
and  told  how  he  protected  Basil  from  the  cus- 
tomary initiation  of  freshmen.  It  was  a  rough 
ceremony  which  ended  with  the  subjection  of  the 
novice  to  an  involuntary  bath.  "I  kept  him  from 
being  hazed  at  college,"  said  Gregory,  "when  he 
was  a  freshman." 

Students  gathered  in  great  numbers,  and  from 
long  distances,  in  the  University  of  Athens.  One 
of  the  contemporaries  of  Gregory  and  Basil  was 
Julian,  afterwards  emperor  and  called  the  "Apos- 
tate." They  studied  rhetoric  and  philosophy: 
rhetoric  meaning  Greek  literature,  —  the  poets, 
tragedies  and  historians;  philosophy  meaning 
logic,  ethics  and  physics. 

159 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Basil  and  Gregory  were  interested  not  only  in 
rhetoric  and  in  philosophy,  but  in  religion.  "Two 
ways  were  known  to  us,  the  first  of  greater  value, 
the  second  of  smaller  consequence:  the  one  lead- 
ing to  our  sacred  buildings  and  the  teachers  there, 
the  other  to  secular  instructors."  They  agreed 
that  they  would  seek  the  monastic  life  together. 
Their  studies  ended,  Gregory  went  home  to  help 
his  father  in  his  little  diocese  of  Nazianzus;  Basil 
undertook  a  journey  to  the  East,  partly  for  the 
joy  of  strange  sights  in  strange  lands,  partly  for 
the  purpose  of  learning  what  manner  of  life  the 
monks  were  living  by  the  Nile. 

In  the  course  of  his  travels  Basil  visited  the 
Antonian  and  the  Pachomian  communities.  To 
his  practical,  administrative  mind  the  life  of 
brotherhood  looked  better  than  the  life  of  soli- 
tude. This  he  resolved  to  practise.  He  returned 
to  Cappadocia,  full  of  enthusiasm,  eager  to  recite 
the  lessons  he  had  learned,  and  called  on  Gregory 
to  join  him.  After  some  debate  as  to  the  best 
place  for  a  monastic  retreat,  —  Basil  preferring 
Annesi  and  Gregory  preferring  Tiberina,  —  they 
decided  on  Annesi.  The  decision  was  highly  char- 
acteristic of  the  relationship  between  the  friends: 
Basil  was  always  temperamentally,  and  perhaps 
unconsciously,  a  domineering  saint,  with  scant 
consideration  for  Gregory's  opinions.^ 

160 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

Annesi  was  a  rocky  glen,  in  Pontus,  beside  the 
river  Iris.  Basil  described  it  in  a  letter.  "There 
is  a  lofty  mountain  covered  with  thick  woods, 
watered  toward  the  north  with  cool  and  trans- 
parent streams.  A  plain  lies  beneath,  enriched  by 
the  waters  that  are  ever  draining  from  it,  and 
skirted  by  a  spontaneous  profusion  of  trees  almost 
thick  enough  to  be  a  fence;  so  as  even  to  surpass 
Calypso's  island,  which  Homer  seems  to  have 
considered  the  most  beautiful  spot  on  the  earth. 
Indeed,  it  is  like  an  island,  enclosed  as  it  is  on  all 
sides;  for  deep  hollows  cut  off  the  sides  of  it;  the 
river,  which  has  lately  fallen  down  a  precipice, 
runs  all  along  the  front,  and  is  impassable  as  a 
wall;  while  the  mountain,  extending  itself  behind, 
and  meeting  the  hollows  in  a  crescent,  stops  up 
the  path  at  its  roots.  There  is  but  one  pass,  and 
I  am  master  of  it." 

He  was  writing  to  Gregory,  arguing  for  Annesi 
and  making  fun  of  muddy  Tiberina.  The  breezes 
blow,  he  says,  from  the  river,  there  are  flowers 
and  singing  birds;  and  a  deep  pool  is  full  of 
fish. 

Gregory,  speaking  of  the  place  after  some 
experience  of  it,  said  that  it  was  "shut  in  by 
mountains,  so  that  the  sun  was  rarely  seen.  The 
ground  was  encumbered  by  thorn-bushes,  and 
was  too  precipitous  for  safe  walking.   The  roar  of 

161 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  river  drowned  the  voice  of  psalmody."  He 
shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  the  biting  winds, 
the  cheerlessness  of  their  hut,  their  fruitless  la- 
bors in  the  so-called  garden,  and  the  poverty  of 
their  meals.  Their  teeth  could  make  no  impres- 
sion on  the  solid  hunks  of  bread.  Thus  Gregory, 
in  his  turn,  made  fun  of  the  retreat  preferred  by 
Basil. 

There  they  settled,  where  the  summer  verified 
the  glowing  praise  of  Basil,  and  the  winter  con- 
firmed the  laments  of  Gregory.  No  doubt,  they 
encountered  hardship :  that  is  what  they  sought. 
Happily  for  their  health,  Basil's  mother  was  living 
just  across  the  river,  and  saw  to  it  that  the  young 
monks  did  not  starve.  They  said  their  prayers, 
and  read  the  works  of  Origen  from  which  they 
made  a  series  of  selections  which  they  afterwards 
published.  They  went  without  food  and  without 
sleep,  to  their  hearts'  content.  Other  like-minded 
persons  joined  them.  The  ascetic  spirit  was  in  the 
common  air  of  Cappadocia  and  Pontus.  Already 
there  were  hermits,  living  as  Antony  had  begun  to 
live;  and  many  others,  keeping  rules  of  strictness 
in  their  own  homes.  When  a  man  like  Basil,  of 
wealth  and  high  social  station,  a  graduate  of  the 
University  of  Athens,  betook  himself  to  a  glen 
beside  a  river,  there  were  many  to  follow  him. 
The  conditions  which  had  surrounded  Antony 

16^ 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

and  Pachomius  surrounded  him.  And  Basil  and 
Gregory,  like  their  predecessors  in  Egypt,  were 
moved  to  make  for  themselves  and  their  pious 
neighbors  a  rule  of  life. 

Letters  of  Basil,  and  two  series  of  Rules,  pre- 
serve for  us  his  ideals  of  the  monastic  manner 
of  living. 

In  one  letter,  the  second  in  a  collection  of  more 
than  three  hundred,  he  discusses  the  matter  in 
detail.  We  must  strive,  he  says,  after  a  quiet 
mind.  He  who  lives  in  the  world  is  exposed  to 
perpetual  distraction;  he  is  anxious  about  his  wife 
and  children,  worried  by  the  care  of  his  house  and 
the  oversight  of  his  servants,  distressed  by  mis- 
fortunes in  trade  and  quarrels  with  his  neighbors. 
Every  day  darkens  the  soul.  The  only  escape  is 
by  the  way  of  solitude.  Let  there  be,  then,  such  a 
place  as  ours,  separate  from  intercourse  with  men, 
that  the  tenor  of  our  exercises  be  not  interrupted 
from  without. 

The  day  begins  with  prayers  and  hymns;  thus 
we  betake  ourselves  to  our  labors,  seasoned  with 
devotion.  The  study  of  the  Bible  is  our  instruction 
in  our  duty.  This,  too,  is  very  important  —  to 
know  how  to  converse,  to  be  measured  in  speak- 
ing and  hearing,  to  keep  the  middle  tone  of  voice. 
As  to  dress,  a  tunic  with  a  girdle  is  sufficient, 
avoiding  bright  colors  and  soft  materials.   Shoes 

163 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

should  be  cheap  but  serviceable.  Beyond  this, 
we  pay  no  heed  to  our  appearance.  Indeed,  gar- 
ments not  over  clean  and  hair  not  smoothly 
brushed  indicate  a  humble  and  submissive  spirit. 
So,  too,  as  to  food :  for  a  man  in  good  health  bread 
will  suflfice,  and  water  will  quench  thirst;  some 
vegetables  may  be  added.  Before  and  after  eat- 
ing, let  grace  be  said.  Let  there  be  one  fixed  hour 
for  taking  food,  that  of  all  the  twenty-four  this 
alone  may  be  spent  upon  the  body.  Let  sleep  be 
broken  in  upon  by  prayer  and  meditation. 

Other  details  are  added  in  a  letter  "On  the 
Perfection  of  the  Life  of  Solitaries."  Basil  advises 
silence.  He  speaks  again  of  the  modulated  voice, 
and  desires  the  seeker  after  God  to  avoid  all  rough 
and  contemptuous  answers,  all  wily  glances  and 
gestures  of  contempt.  He  advises  poverty.  He 
who  comes  to  God  ought  to  embrace  poverty  in 
all  things. 

Basil's  "Longer  and  Shorter  Rules,"  so  called, 
are  in  the  form  of  conferences  or  instructions. 
They  appear  to  have  been  written  by  Basil  with 
the  help  of  Gregory  for  the  communities  which 
assembled  around  their  retreat  in  Pontus. 

They  enjoin  withdrawal  from  the  world,  and 
renunciation  of  all  private  property,  though  this 
is  not  enforced  with  thoroughgoing  strictness. 
Hours  are  appointed  for  daily  prayer:  on  waking 

164 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

from  sleep,  in  the  midst  of  the  morning,  at  noon- 
day, in  the  midst  of  the  afternoon,  at  the  close  of 
the  day,  on  retiring  to  rest,  at  midnight,  and  be- 
fore the  dawn,  —  eight  times.  Watching  and  fast- 
ing are  so  regulated  as  to  restrain  excessive  auster- 
ity; life  is  to  be  plain  and  simple,  without  needless 
distress.  During  meals  a  book  is  read,  "and  the 
brethren  are  to  think  more  of  what  they  hear  than 
of  what  they  eat."  Bread  and  fish  are  appropriate, 
remembering  the  miracle  in  the  wilderness.  "To 
fast  or  watch  more  than  the  rest  is  self-will  and 
vain-glory." 

The  Rules  prescribe  work  as  an  essential  part 
of  life.  Basil  suggests  the  quiet  trades,  and  such 
as  do  not  minister  to  luxury,  —  weaving,  shoe- 
making,  carpentering,  especially  agriculture.  The 
better  educated  among  the  brethren  are  to  find 
their  work  in  study,  especially  the  study  of  the 
Bible;  they  are  also  to  teach  the  young,  who  may 
be  sent  by  their  parents  to  the  monastery  school. 
The  brethren  are  to  engage  in  works  of  charity, 
ministering  to  the  poor  and  caring  for  the  sick, 
but  in  all  cases  for  the  sake  of  the  soul  rather 
than  for  the  relief  of  the  body. 

Over  the  community  is  a  superior,  who  assigns 
the  tasks,  and  who  is  to  be  obeyed  so  long  as  his 
commands  are  not  contrary  to  God's  command- 
ments.   Other  ojQScers  have    their    appropriate 

165 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

responsibilities.  Confessions  are  to  be  made  to 
the  senior  brethren,  especially  to  those  who  are 
skilled  in  such  ministration;  the  confessor  exer- 
cises his  oflfice  not  because  of  appointment,  but 
because  of  natural  ability.  Basil  prefers  many 
small  communities,  such  as  can  have  one  lamp 
and  one  fire,  as  contrasted  with  the  vast  fraterni- 
ties of  Egypt.  These  communities  he  would  have 
federated,  with  regular  conferences  of  their  supe- 
riors. Some  communities  will  be  of  men,  others 
of  women,  —  the  women  making  and  mending 
the  men's  clothes;  the  men  helping  the  women 
with  their  accounts,  and  administering  the  sac- 
raments. 

,  These  Basilian  Rules,  which  determined  the 
ideals  and  the  modes  of  life  of  monasticism  not 
only  in  Asia  Minor  but  throughout  the  Eastern 
Church,  and  determine  them  to  this  day,  im- 
proved upon  the  Antonian  and  the  Pachomian 
Rules  in  their  emphasis  upon  social  duty.  The 
disciples  of  Antony,  in  spite  of  their  residence  in  a 
community,  were  at  heart  hermits;  and  although 
the  monasteries  of  Pachomius  brought  the  breth- 
ren nearer  together,  still  the  solitary  life  was  re- 
garded as  more  acceptable  with  God.  But  Basil 
organized  a  brotherhood.  The  monastic  life,  as  he 
saw  it,  was  to  be  lived  in  common.  The  dormi- 
tory, the  refectory,  the  chapel,  the  work  of  the 

166 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

monastery  farm,  kept  the  monks  together.  Basil 
related  them  not  only  to  each  other,  but  to  the 
outside  world.  He  came  to  see  that  the  best  place 
for  a  monastery  is  not  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness, 
but  in  the  neighborhood  of  a  city,  where  the  school 
and  the  hospital  of  the  cloister  are  accessible  to 
the  people. 

Out  of  the  serenity  of  this  monastic  life,  Basil 
and  Gregory  were  called  into  the  active  service 
of  the  church.  Gregory  went  to  help  his  father, 
the  bishop  of  Nazianzus;  Basil  went  to  help  the 
aged  bishop  of  Csesarea.  In  so  doing  they  set  an 
example  which  is  still  followed  in  the  Eastern 
Church.  In  Greece,  in  Russia,  to  this  day,  the 
bishop  is  chosen  from  the  monastery.  It  seemed 
at  first  to  relate  the  church  to  the  world.  Out  of 
the  discipline  of  seclusion,  in  the  strength  of  holy 
meditation,  came  the  bishop,  as  the  Master  de- 
scended from  the  Hill  of  the  Transfiguration  to 
enter  into  social  service  in  the  plain.  But  the 
eventual  result  was  to  incapacitate  the  church 
for  influential  work.  The  bishops  came  from  the 
monasteries  ignorant  of  the  world  about  them, 
speaking  a  language  and  living  a  life  of  their  own. 
Before  the  fourth  century  was  ended,  the  Eastern 
Church  had  retired  from  that  control  of  public 
affairs  into  which  the  Western  Church  was  tri- 
umphantly entering. 

167 


,THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

III 

The  world  into  which  Basil  and  Gregory  came 
was  ruled  by  their  old  schoolmate  Julian.  He 
was  attempting  a  restoration  of  paganism. 

Julian  had  been  brought  up  a  Christian,  but  he 
hated  Christianity.  He  despised  the  sophistries 
of  his  instructors,  men  of  the  Arian  theology,  who, 
neglecting  the  study  of  Christ  and  the  gospel,  oc- 
cupied their  time  with  the  dreariest  of  metaphysi- 
cal discussions.  He  turned  to  Homer  and  Hesiod, 
to  Plato  and  Aristotle.  He  was  repelled  by  the 
contentions  of  the  Christians  as  they  wrangled 
over  points  of  doctrine,  fighting  in  the  streets 
and  in  the  churches,  debating  theology  with  fists 
and  clubs,  and  hating  one  another  for  the  love  of 
God.  That  secularization  of  religion,  which  was 
sending  devout  men  out  of  the  church  into  the 
monastic  life,  inclined  Julian  to  seek  for  God  in 
the  old  pagan  way.  It  is  a  serious  arraignment  of 
the  Christianity  of  the  fourth  century  that  Julian, 
earnest,  pure-minded,  sincerely  religious,  honestly 
devoted  to  the  welfare  of  the  empire,  regarded  it 
as  he  did. 

It  is  at  the  same  time  an  evidence  of  the  sub- 
stantial strength  of  the  Christian  Church  that 
Julian  was  unable  even  to  endanger  it.  He  or- 
dered the  rebuilding  of  the  temples  which  the 

168 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

Christians  had  destroyed,  and  the  renewal  of  the 
sacrifices.  He  brought  back  deposed  bishops 
whom  his  predecessors  had  exiled,  leaders  of  here- 
sies and  schisms,  and  thereby  increased  the  con- 
fusions and  contentions  of  the  church.  He  abol- 
ished the  privileges  which  had  been  granted  to 
the  Christians,  and  forbade  them  to  teach  in  the 
schools.  He  declined  to  interfere  with  the  mobs 
who  attacked  the  churches  and  the  clergy.  He 
brought  the  whole  influence  of  his  imperial  power 
to  the  service  of  the  pagan  restoration.  But  it  was 
like  an  endeavor  to  give  life  to  the  dead.  The  day 
of  paganism  had  passed.  It  is  said  of  Julian  that 
he  once  asked,  "What  is  the  Galilean  carpenter 
doing  now?"  and  was  answered,  "He  is  making 
a  coffin "  —  a  coffin  for  dead  paganism.  It  was 
believed  among  the  Christians  that  when  Julian 
died,  in  an  inglorious  war  against  the  Persians,  he 
cried,  "O  Galilean,  thou  hast  conquered!"  His 
endeavor  to  establish  an  imperial  pagan  church 
never  even  approached  success. 

After  Julian  came  Valens.  As  Julian  had  at- 
tempted to  make  the  empire  pagan,  Valens  tried 
to  make  it  Arian.  This  was  a  much  more  serious 
matter.  The  long  controversy  between  the  Arians 
and  the  Athanasians  was  in  such  a  state  that 
nobody  could  predict  with  reasonable  confidence 
whether  the  faith  of  Nicsea  would  be  maintained 

169 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

or  rejected.  '  Athanasius  was  still  living,  but  he 
was  in  the  end  of  his  days,  and  the  next  Pope  of 
Alexandria  was  an  Arian.  The  Pope  of  Constanti- 
nople was  an  Arian.  Antioch  was  divided  between 
two  claimants  of  the  episcopal  oflfice.  The  Pope  of 
Rome  was  far  away  from  the  centre  of  the  church, 
ignorant  of  the  Greek  language  in  which  the  de- 
bate was  conducted  and  upon  whose  fine  distinc- 
tions it  depended,  and  much  perplexed  by  the 
subtleties  of  the  metaphysical  discussion.  There 
was  crying  need  of  a  strong,  clear-minded,  influen- 
tial orthodox  leader,  to  come  to  the  reinforcement 
of  the  losing  side.  He  must  be  able  to  hold  his 
own  against  a  hundred  bishops,  and  to  withstand 
an  emperor. 

Such  a  man  appeared  in  the  person  of  Basil, 
now  archbishop  of  Caesarea.  He  took  the  direc- 
tion of  the  cause  of  orthodoxy.  His  commanding 
personality,  which  had  made  him  the  founder  of 
the  new  monasticism,  made  him  the  savior  of  the 
church.  His  energy  was  endless.  He  adminis- 
tered his  vast  diocese,  preached  persistently, 
fostered  monasteries,  established  so  great  a  hos- 
pital outside  the  walls  of  Csesarea  that  it  seemed 
a  town  by  itself,  wrote  innumerable  letters,  pub- 
lished tracts  and  books  which  involved  serious 
study,  revised  the  liturgy,  participated  vigorously 
in  a  hundred  controversies.^ 

170 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

To  him  once  appeared  the  Pretorian  Prefect 
Modestus,  sent  by  Valens  to  require  him  to  con- 
form to  the  Arian  heresy  or  to  resign.  "Do  you 
know,"  said  the  prefect  to  the  prelate,  "what  I 
can  do  to  you?"  —  "What  can  you  do?"  —  "I 
can  punish  you  with  confiscation,  with  torture, 
and  with  death."  —  "Do  your  worst,"  said  Basil. 
"All  that  I  have  is  a  few  books  and  these  clothes; 
you  cannot  exile  me  from  the  grace  of  God;  and 
death  will  but  bring  me  the  sooner  into  His 
blessed  presence."  —  "We  bishops,"  he  said,  "are 
not  arrogant,  nor  wantonly  defiant;  but  where  the 
cause  of  God  is  at  stake,  we  despise  all  else:  fire, 
sword,  wild  beasts,  have  no  terror  for  us." 

Presently,  Valens  came  himself.  Basil  was  in 
his  cathedral,  which  was  filled  with  a  multitude  of 
people.  The  responses  in  the  service  sounded  like 
peals  of  thunder.  The  bishop  stood,  according  to 
the  ancient  custom,  behind  the  Holy  Table,  facing 
the  congregation.  His  appearance  —  tall,  with 
white  beard,  attired  in  the  splendid  vestments  of 
his  oflSce — overawed  the  emperor.  Valens  had 
a  conference  with  Basil,  after  which  he  sent  him 
money  for  his  hospital. 

Meanwhile,  Cappadocia  had  been  divided  into 
two  provinces,  and  Csesarea  in  Cappadocia  Prima 
had  a  rival  in  Tyana  in  Cappadocia  Secunda.  The 
rivalry  extended  to  the  bishops.    Each  diocese 

171 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

depended  for  material  support  upon  the  produce 
of  outlying  farms;  the  servants  of  the  two  bishops 
fought  at  the  crossroads.  Thereupon  Basil,  after 
the  manner  of  the  big  man  whose  overmastering 
strength  makes  him  inconsiderate  of  his  smaller 
neighbor,  took  his  brother  Gregory  and  set  him 
down  to  hold  the  road  at  Nyssa,  making  him 
bishop  of  that  place,  paying  no  attention  to  his 
remonstrances.  And  he  took  Gregory  his  friend 
and  put  him  down  to  hold  the  road  at  Sasima, 
making  him  bishop  in  the  same  way.  Sasima  con- 
sisted of  a  few  houses  around  a  posting-station. 
"There  was  no  water,  no  vegetation,  nothing 
but  dust,  and  the  never-ceasing  noise  of  passing 
carts."  Into  these  forlorn  places  Basil  thrust  the 
two  Gregories,  shy  and  gentle  scholars.  Thereby 
he  lost  their  friendship  for  a  time,  though  they 
forgave  him.  He  set  what  he  believed  to  be  the 
good  of  the  church  above  all  friendships;  only,  in 
this  instance,  the  good  of  the  church  consisted 
in  the  safe  delivery  of  eggs  and  chickens  from 
the  Taurus  Mountains.  Gregory  the  brother 
remained  at  Nyssa;  Gregory  the  friend,  after  a 
single  look  at  Sasima,  returned  to  Nazianzus. 

In  378  came  the  battle  of  Adrianople,  and 
Valens  met  his  death.  The  Arian  cause  died  with 
him.  The  next  year  Basil  died,  having  seen  only 
the  beginning  of  that  triumph  of  the  Nicene  faith 

172 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

to  which  he  had  so  valiantly  contributed.  In  the 
year  following,  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  was  called 
to  Constantinople. 

IV 

A  new  ruler  had  now  established  himself  on  the 
throne  of  the  empire,  the  last  ruler  of  the  united 
Roman  world.  One  night  in  Antioch,  a  little 
group  of  men  of  rank  met  in  profound  secrecy  to 
ask  a  question  of  the  Fates.  The  room  had  been 
purified  by  the  burning  of  Arabian  incense.  In  the 
middle  of  the  floor  was  a  great  metal  basin,  having 
engraved  upon  its  rim  the  letters  of  the  Greek 
alphabet.  In  the  basin  stood  a  tripod  made  of 
laurel.  Into  the  dim  light  of  this  darkened  room 
came  a  sorcerer,  in  white,  having  in  one  hand  a 
sprig  of  a  tree,  and  in  the  other  a  thread  of  flax 
fastened  to  a  ring.  He  seated  himself  upon  the 
tripod,  chanted  an  incantation  to  the  gods  who 
disclose  the  future,  and  swung  the  ring  around  the 
rim.  The  ring  was  thus  to  answer  the  question. 
Who  shall  be  the  next  emperor  of  Rome?  The 
magic  ring  touched  first  Th,  then  e,  then  o,  then  d. 
Thereupon  the  company  in  terror  or  in  satis- 
faction stopped  the  sorcery,  and  fled  each  to 
his  own  house.  But  the  secret  was  betrayed. 
Valens  put  some  of  the  conspirators  to  death, 
and  a  number  of  good  and  innocent  men  whose 

173 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

names  began  with  the  fatal  letters  perished  with 
them. 

One  of  the  victims  of  the  fear  and  anger  of  the 
emperor  was  the  great  commander,  Theodosius. 
He  had  been  the  ruler  of  Britain,  where  he  had 
defended  the  Roman  colony  against  the  Picts  and 
Scots.  He  had  been  the  ruler  of  Africa,  where  he 
had  quelled  a  dangerous  insurrection.  Upon  the 
death  of  Theodosius,  his  son,  of  the  same  name, 
gave  up  his  position  in  the  army  and  retired  to  his 
farm  in  Spain.  When  Valens  fell  at  Adrianople, 
Gratian,  Emperor  of  the  West,  called  Theodosius 
to  be  Emperor  of  the  East. 
'  Theodosius  was  still  busy  at  the  wars  when 
Gregory  appeared  in  Constantinople.  It  was  not 
yet  certain  which  side  the  new  ruler  would  take  in 
the  controversy  by  which  the  church  was  divided. 
The  city  of  Constantinople  was  almost  wholly 
Arian.  The  orthodox  congregation  to  which 
Gregory  had  come  to  minister  was  so  weak  and 
small  that  the  services  were  held  in  a  private 
house. 

But  Gregory  was  an  unusual  preacher.  Lack- 
ing as  he  was  in  most  of  the  physical  advantages 
which  assist  public  speech,  —  a  short,  slight,  shy 
man,  bald  except  for  a  thin  fringe  of  gray  hair, 
stoop-shouldered,  and  shabbily  dressed,  —  he  had 
a  charm  of  voice,  a  directness  of  manner,  an  ear- 

174 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

nestness  of  purpose,  and  a  divine  gift  of  eloquence 
which  profoundly  impressed  his  hearers.  He  for- 
got his  shyness  when  he  arose  to  speak,  and  they 
forgot  his  looks.  The  house  became  a  church,  and 
the  church  was  enlarged  until  its  success  alarmed 
the  Arians.  One  night  they  stoned  it. 

The  increasing  congregation  attracted  the  no- 
tice of  an  ecclesiastical  adventurer,  named  Maxi- 
mus.  Gregory,  simple-minded  and  unsuspecting, 
trusted  him.  But  Maximus  was  the  candidate 
of  the  bishop  of  Alexandria  for  the  bishopric  of 
Constantinople.  If,  as  now  seemed  likely,  the 
orthodox  faith  was  to  be  restored  in  Constanti- 
nople, the  bishop  of  Alexandria  desired  to  secure 
the  supremacy  of  his  own  see.  So  one  night,  a 
group  of  Egyptian  bishops,  having  quietly  arrived 
in  Constantinople,  and  gained  entrance  by  the 
key  of  a  conspirator  to  Gregory's  church,  began 
the  ceremony  of  consecrating  Maximus.  The 
proceedings  were  delayed  by  a  curious  incident. 
Maximus,  who  had  thus  far  appeared  as  a  Cynic 
philosopher,  had  not  only  the  staff  and  the  cloak 
but  the  long  hair  which  belonged  to  that  part. 
But  the  canons  forbade  the  clergy  to  wear  their 
hair  long.  It  was  therefore  necessary,  before  the 
consecration  could  go  on,  to  cut  the  flowing  locks 
of  Maximus.  In  the  midst  of  this  operation  it  was 
discovered  that  the  philosopher's  long  hair  was 

175 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

false.  Then  arose  a  tumult  and  disputing,  in  the 
course  of  which  Gregory's  congregation  discov- 
ered what  was  happening  in  the  church,  and  drove 
the  Egyptians  out  with  appropriate  violence. 

On  a  November  day  in  380,  the  emperor  Theo- 
dosius  arrived  in  Constantinople.  He  immedi- 
ately decreed  that  the  churches  of  the  city  should 
be  taken  from  the  heretics,  in  whose  possession 
they  had  been  for  forty  years,  and  restored  to  the 
orthodox.  Two  days  later  he  himself  escorted 
Gregory  to  the  cathedral  church  of  Santa  So- 
phia. The  sky  was  gray,  and  seemed  uncertain 
whether  to  rain  or  shine.  It  was  in  keeping  with 
the  occasion.  The  orthodox  faith  had  indeed 
come  to  its  own  again,  but  the  procession  in  which 
Gregory  walked  beside  the  emperor  had  to  be 
guarded  by  soldiers,  while  women  wept  and  men 
cursed.  The  sun  shone  for  a  moment  just  as 
Gregory  took  his  seat  in  the  chancel,  and  the 
congregation  shouted, "  Gregory  for  bishop !  Greg- 
ory for  bishop!"  But  it  was  a  sad  triumph. 

Theodosius  called  a  conference  of  bishops,  now 
numbered  second  in  the  list  of  the  General  Coun- 
cils of  the  Church.  They  were,  for  the  most  part, 
from  Syria  and  Asia  Minor.  The  bishop  of  Alex- 
andria came  late,  perhaps  because  he  was  invited 
late.  The  bishop  of  Rome  seems  not  to  have  been 
invited  at  all.  It  was  a  local  council.  The  bishop 

176 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

of  Antioch,  Meletius,  presided;  the  contention 
there  between  Meletius  and  Paulinus  had  not 
been  decided,  but  the  party  of  Meletius  was  in 
the  majority.  Gregory  was  installed  as  bishop 
of  Constantinople.  Within  a  few  days  Meletius 
died,  and  Gregory  was  made  president. 

The  council  addressed  itself  to  the  discomfiture 
of  heretics:  Arians  and  semi-Arians,  Sabellians, 
Marcellians,  Photinians,  Apollinarians,  Eunomi- 
ans,  and  Macedonians  —  a  significant  and  porten- 
tous list.  It  endeavored  to  check  the  ambition  of 
ecclesiastics,  forbidding  bishops  to  interfere  with 
the  affairs  of  dioceses  other  than  their  own,  having 
special  reference  to  the  activities  of  Alexandria. 
The  death  of  Meletius  had  revived  the  difliculty 
as  to  the  episcopal  succession  in  Antioch:  the 
council  tried  to  settle  that. 

It  used  to  be  thought  that  the  Nicene  Creed  was 
phrased  by  this  council  in  its  present  form,  and  to 
this  is  to  be  ascribed  the  inclusion  of  the  confer- 
ence among  the  General  Councils;  but  there  is  no 
trace  in  the  records  of  any  discussion  of  this  mat- 
ter. The  Nicene  Creed,  in  its  original  wording, 
was  that  which  had  long  been  recited  at  Csesarea, 
with  the  addition  of  certain  Nicene  words.  The 
Nicene  Creed,  as  it  is  said  to-day,  is  that  which 
had  long  been  recited  at  Jerusalem.  Cyril  of  Jeru- 
salem, finding  his  orthodoxy  questioned,  may 

177 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

have  presented  this  creed,  with  the  proper  Nicene 
additions,  at  the  Council  of  Constantinople.  Thus 
it  may  have  come  into  general  notice.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  find  that  after  the  long  and  tragic  debate 
which  had  so  seriously  divided  the  church,  the 
orthodox  faith  attained  its  abiding  expression  not 
as  the  result  of  any  deliberation,  and  not  with  the 
sanction  of  any  vote,  but  by  the  gradual  commen- 
dation of  its  own  merits. 

The  council  debated  with  the  fury  of  men  who 
had  faced  each  other  on  fields  of  battle.  Greg- 
ory could  not  control  them.  He  compared  them 
to  a  flock  of  chattering  jays,  and  to  a  swarm  of 
stinging  wasps.  He  wished  to  resign  his  presi- 
dency, but  they  would  not  consent.  The  bishop 
of  Alexandria,  however,  when  he  arrived  to  add  a 
new  disorder  to  the  scene,  declared  that  Gregory 
having  been  made  bishop  of  Sasima  could  not 
canonically  be  made  bishop  of  Constantinople. 
Immediately,  with  a  glad  heart,  he  yielded  up  his 
presidency  and  his  bishopric.  He  bade  farewell 
to  the  council  and  the  city,  and  returned  to  his 
Cappadocian  farm.  "I  will  rejoice,"  he  said, 
"in  my  tranquillity,  gladly  flying  from  palaces, 
and  cities,  and  priests."  Once  Theodosius  invited 
him  to  attend  another  council,  but  he  declined. 
"I  will  not  sit,"  he  said,  "in  the  seat  of  synods, 
while  geese  and  cranes  confusedly  wrangle." 

178 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  EAST 

In  the  shade  of  his  trees,  beside  a  singing  brook, 
he  wrote  poetry  and  friendly  letters.  Sometimes 
he  indulged  himself  for  a  while  in  the  luxury  of  his 
old  asceticism,  sleeping  on  sackcloth,  and  once 
going  a  whole  Lent  without  speaking.  The  wife 
and  daughter  of  his  kinsman  Valentinian  insisted 
on  visiting  him,  till  he  likened  them  to  Eve  in  the 
Paradise  of  Eden:  this  was  his  chief  annoyance. 
Thus  he  continued  to  the  end  of  his  gentle  life, 
saying  his  prayers  and  tending  his  few  sheep. 


CHAPTER  VII 

AMBROSE 


IN  the  year  374,  when  the  magician  at  Antioch 
was  spelling  out  the  name  of  Theodosius,  a 
sudden  crisis  came  in  the  life  of  a  Roman  gover- 
nor named  Ambrose.  The  father  of  Ambrose,  as 
head  of  one  of  the  departments  of  the  empire,  had 
ruled  a  great  part  of  Europe.  The  son,  at  the 
age  of  thirty,  was  following  in  his  father's  steps. 
He  was  already  set  in  authority  over  upper  Italy. 
The  chief  city  of  his  province  was  Milan.  In  374, 
the  people  of  Milan  were  assembled  for  the  elec- 
tion of  a  bishop. 

Episcopal  elections  had  now  become  occasions 
of  disorder.  For  example,  Damasus,  the  con- 
temporary bishop  of  Rome,  the  protector  of  St. 
Jerome  and  himself  entitled  "saint,"  had  gained 
his  place  after  an  election  so  vigorously  contested 
that  when  the  enthusiastic  debate  was  over,  and 
the  decision  made,  and  the  church  emptied  of  the 
congregation,  there  were  found  upon  the  floor  a 
hundred  and  thirty-seven  bodies  of  dead  electors. 

This  disorder  was  due  in  part  to  the  secular 
importance  of  the  oflSce.  The  bishopric  of  a  con- 

180 


AMBROSE 

siderable  city  was  a  place  of  power  and  wealth. 
The  bishop  of  a  large  diocese  was  the  equal  of 
nobles  and  princes,  and  did  business  with  kings. 
The  pagan  prefect  of  Rome,  Prsetextatus,  is 
reported  to  have  said,  "I  will  myself  become  a 
Christian,  if  you  will  make  me  bishop." 

Another  cause  of  disorder  was  the  part  taken  in 
episcopal  elections  by  the  people.  The  choice  of  a 
bishop  was  a  democratic  undertaking.  He  might 
be  selected  at  a  town  meeting.  It  is  plain  that  a 
town  meeting  in  Italy  in  the  fourth  century  was 
very  different  both  in  tradition  and  in  temper- 
ament from  a  town  meeting  of  the  present  day 
in  New  England.  The  townsmen  behaved  them- 
selves accordingly. 

And  the  natural  confusion  and  tumult  of  the 
occasion  was  frequently  magnified,  as  in  this  in- 
stance in  Milan,  by  bitter  party  strife.  The  long 
war  between  the  Arians  and  the  Athanasians  was 
still  an  undecided  conflict.  Men  went  into  the 
election  of  a  bishop  as  if  they  were  going  into 
battle. 

Thus  the  Christians  assembled,  under  these 
critical  and  dangerous  conditions,  at  Milan.  The 
diocese  was  nearly  as  important  as  the  see  of 
Rome  itself.  Indeed,  while  that  ancient  city  still 
shone  in  the  light  of  the  glory  of  its  illustrious 
past,  it  had  been  politically  superseded.    The 

181 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

establishment  of  Constantinople,  as  a  new  Rome 
on  the  Bosphorus,  and  the  division  of  the  empire 
into  two  parts,  East  and  West,  had  reduced  the 
influence  of  Rome  in  the  East  to  insignificance. 
Even  the  Western  emperors  had  abandoned  Rome, 
and  had  preferred  to  reside  in  Ravenna  or  in 
Milan.  The  city  had  ceased  to  be  the  centre  of  the 
world.  When  Chrysostom  in  his  exile  wrote  to 
influential  bishops  in  the  West,  protesting  against 
the  injustice  of  his  condemnation,  he  addressed 
his  letter  in  the  same  words  to  the  bishop  of  Rome, 
the  bishop  of  Milan,  and  the  bishop  of  Aquileia, 
making  no  distinction. 

Under  these  conditions,  Ambrose  came  to  the 
election  to  keep  the  peace.  Standing  at  the  bish- 
op's throne,  in  the  east  end  of  the  church,  over- 
looking the  crowded  congregation,  he  addressed 
the  people.  Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  a  moment's 
silence,  a  small  child,  lifted  to  his  father's  shoulder 
and  seeing  Ambrose  in  the  bishop's  place,  called 
out  in  shrill  surprise,  "Ambrose  is  bishop!"  In- 
stantly the  words  were  taken  up,  the  rival  candi- 
dates were  forgotten,  everybody  shouted,  "Am- 
brose is  bishop!" 

The  possibility  of  such  a  position  had  never 
entered  into  the  mind  of  Ambrose.  The  platis 
which  he  had  made  for  his  life  were  altogether 
different.  A  great  noble,  already  well  advanced  in 

182 


AMBROSE 

his  civil  career,  he  looked  forward  to  political 
place  and  power.  He  was  interested,  indeed,  in 
the  Christian  religion;  he  believed  in  it,  and  tried 
to  live  according  to  it;  but  he  had  not  been  bap- 
tized. Nevertheless,  the  people  insisted,  and 
Ambrose  at  last  consented.  Within  the  space  of  a 
single  week  he  was  baptized,  confirmed,  admitted 
to  the  Holy  Communion,  and  made  deacon  and 
presbyter  and  bishop.  Much  of  his  property  in 
land  he  gave  to  the  church,  much  of  his  posses- 
sions in  money  he  distributed  among  the  poor. 
His  business  interests  he  entrusted  to  his  brother. 
He  began  the  study  of  theology.  Every  day  he 
celebrated  the  Holy  Communion  and  preached. 
Every  day  he  sat  at  a  table  in  the  hall  of  his  house 
with  his  books  before  him,  and  the  doors  open. 
People  came  to  consult  him  upon  all  manner  of 
matters,  great  and  small.  In  the  free  intervals 
between  these  consultations  he  gave  his  attention 
to  reading,  sometimes  in  the  Bible,  sometimes  in 
the  writings  of  Origen,  sometimes  in  Plato.  His 
mind  was  naturally  conservative.  He  had  an 
appreciation  of  the  value  of  authority,  which  he 
had  derived  from  his  experience  as  a  statesman. 
He  desired  to  know  the  mind  of  the  church,  as 
expressed  in  the  best  traditions  and  in  the  instruc- 
tions of  the  best  teachers.  This  he  would  follow, 
this  he  would  establish  in  his  diocese.  His  inclina- 

183 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

tion  to  accept  and  administer  the  doctrine  and 
discipline  of  the  church  as  he  found  it  was  con- 
firmed by  the  conditions  under  which  his  ministry 
began.  Absorbed  immediately  in  the  pressing 
business  of  his  office,  having  no  time  for  study 
except  in  the  midst  of  his  constant  problems  of 
administration,  he  was  compelled  to  take  things 
theological  and  ecclesiastical  at  the  hands  of 
tradition. 

It  was  soon  plain  to  Ambrose  that  his  office  in 
the  church  would  bring  him  quite  as  close  to  the 
affairs  of  the  great  world  as  the  office  to  which  he 
had  looked  forward  in  the  state.  Milan  being  one 
of  the  capitals  of  the  empire,  and  thus  a  place 
of  residence  for  the  imperial  court,  Ambrose  had 
emperors  and  empresses  among  his  parishioners. 
Into  the  responsibilities  of  this  relationship  he 
entered  heartily. 

Thus  he  was  brought  into  two  important  con- 
tentions. He  had  his  part  in  the  last  contest  be- 
tween Christianity  and  paganism,  and  in  the  last 
contest  between  orthodoxy  and  Arianism. 

n 

The  Roman  Empire  had  now  been  nominally 
Christian  for  more  than  half  a  century.  But 
paganism  continued.  The  persistence  of  the  old 
religion  in  the  country  districts  was  so  noticeable 

184 


AMBROSE 

that  the  word  "heathen,"  meaning  one  who  lives 
on  the  heath,  and  the  word  "pagan,"  meaning 
one  who  lives  in  a  village  (pagus),  bear  witness 
to  it  to  this  day.  The  tillers  of  the  soil  were  off 
the  line  of  progress.  The  missionaries  of  Chris- 
tianity addressed  their  message  to  the  cities.  Only 
very  gradually  did  the  new  religion  make  its  way 
into  the  back  districts.  On  the  hills  and  in  the 
woods  the  gods  were  still  worshipped  in  the  old 
manner.  Even  in  the  cities,  where  there  were 
many  Christians,  there  were  also  many  pagans. 
People  do  not  put  off  one  religion  and  put  on  an- 
other quickly.  The  beliefs  which  are  involved  are 
too  venerable,  and  the  associations  are  too  sacred, 
for  that.  Under  the  conditions  of  official  change, 
while  ancient  institutions  are  established  and 
disestablished,  some  citizens  are  instinctively 
hostile,  some  are  friendly,  some  are  enthusiastic, 
many  are  indifferent.  The  indifferent  people  are 
commonly  in  majority,  going  quietly  about  their 
accustomed  affairs,  letting  their  excited  neighbors 
fight  it  out,  paying  to  the  combination  of  politics 
and  religion  no  more  attention  than  is  absolutely 
necessary,  and  never  consulting  the  morning 
paper  before  they  say  their  prayers  to  see  under 
what  name  God  is  to  be  addressed  that  day.  Thus 
passive  paganism  continued  into  the  Middle 
Ages.   In  the  fourth  century  it  was  ready,  upon 

185 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

any  suitable  occasion,  to  abolish  the  innovations 
of  Christianity  and  to  return  to  the  old  ways. 
Especially  among  the  Roman  aristocracy  and  in 
the  Senate  the  men  were  many  of  them  pagans; 
their  wives  and  daughters  might  be  Christians. 

When  the  emperor  Augustus  returned  from 
the  battle  of  Actium,  which  made  him  master  of 
the  world,  he  set  up  in  the  Senate-house  at  Rome 
an  altar  dedicated  to  Victory,  with  a  golden 
statue  of  that  goddess  standing  on  a  globe  in  the 
attitude  of  forward  flight.  On  this  altar  every 
senator  for  centuries  had  taken  his  oath  of  faith- 
ful service  to  the  state.  It  was  still  the  custom  of 
the  pagan  members  of  that  body  to  offer  incense 
at  this  shrine.  It  represented  the  prosperity  of 
Rome.  In  the  general  demolition  of  the  images 
of  the  gods,  the  statue  of  Victory  had  escaped. 
It  had  been  prudently  covered  when  the  emperor 
Constantius  came  to  Rome.  But  the  emperor 
Gratian  had  removed  it.  To  this  action  he  had 
been  impelled  by  his  Christian  conscience,  which 
also  forbade  him  to  wear  the  vestments  of  the 
pontifex  maximus.  It  meant  that  the  time  of 
compromise  had  passed,  and  that  the  Christians 
who  had  pleaded  in  vain  with  pagan  emperors  for 
toleration  intended  to  follow  their  intolerant 
example.  When  Valentinian  II  came  to  the  im- 
perial throne  of  the  West  a  last  attempt  was  made 

186 


AMBROSE 

to  secure  to  paganism  the  right  at  least  to  exist. 
A  petition  was  presented  to  the  emperor  asking 
for  the  restoration  of  the  altar  of  Victory. 

The  prefect  Symmachus  presented  the  peti- 
tion, the  bishop  Ambrose  presented  the  argu- 
ment against  it. 

Symmachus  declared  that  Rome  with  tears 
asked  for  the  renewal  of  the  ancient  ceremonies. 
These  rites,  he  said,  had  in  the  old  time  repulsed 
Hannibal,  and  driven  away  the  invading  bar- 
barians. Ambrose  remarked  that  the  gods  had 
been  a  long  time  in  coming  to  the  help  of  Rome 
against  Hannibal;  they  had  suffered  nearly  the 
whole  country  to  be  devastated.  As  for  the  bar- 
barians, they  had  forced  their  way  to  the  very 
walls  of  Rome,  and  would  have  entered  had  not 
the  garrison  been  awakened  by  the  cackling  of 
frightened  geese.  "Where  was  your  Jupiter  that 
night?"  asks  Ambrose.  "Rome  has  been  saved 
in  all  her  perils  by  the  courage  of  her  heroes." 

Symmachus  called  attention  to  the  fact  that 
the  removal  of  the  altar  had  been  followed  by  a 
famine,  showing  the  displeasure  of  heaven.  Yes, 
says  Ambrose,  there  was  a  famine  last  year,  but 
how  about  the  unusual  plenty  of  this  year  .^^  Every- 
body knows  that  the  years  are  different,  that  now 
there  is  abundance  and  now  scarceness,  in  all 
lands  and  under  all  conditions  of  religion. 

187 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Symmachus  pleaded  for  the  ancestral  ways. 
But  life,  says  Ambrose,  consists  in  progress.  The 
world  has  grown  since  the  beginning  of  creation; 
we  ourselves  grow  year  by  year.  Can  we  main- 
tain, then,  that  infancy  is  better  than  maturity? 
Shall  we  say  "that  all  things  ought  to  have  re- 
mained in  their  first  beginnings,  that  the  earth 
which  was  at  first  covered  with  darkness  is  now 
displeasing  because  it  is  brightened  with  the  shin- 
ing of  the  sun?" 

The  arguments  of  Ambrose  were  effective  with 
Valentinian;  who,  indeed,  needed  no  arguments, 
his  mind  being  already  made  up  against  the 
restoration  of  the  altar.  They  are  interesting  as 
showing  how  far  Christianity  had  come  on  in 
the  Roman  world  since  the  apologies  of  Justin 
Martyr. 

The  attempt  of  paganism  to  save  itself  by  the 
peaceful  method  of  petition  having  thus  failed, 
an  attempt  was  made  to  preserve  the  old  religion 
by  wager  of  battle. 

Valentinian  II  being  but  a  youth,  Theodosius 
had  given  him  as  prime  minister,  and  practical 
administrator  of  imperial  affairs,  Arbogast  the 
Frank.  The  appointment  discloses  the  gradual 
manner  in  which  the  barbarians  were  effecting 
the  conquest  of  the  empire.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
they  proceeded  by  invasion,  but  often  they  came 
'  188 


AMBROSE 

quietly,  by  dint  of  individual  ability,  into  places 
of  power.  Then  being  in  place,  and  possessing 
the  power,  they  used  their  opportunity.  One 
day,  Valentinian,  irritated  beyond  endurance,  dis- 
charged Arbogast.  The  prime  minister  brought 
the  letter  of  dismissal  into  the  presence  of  the 
emperor,  tore  it  in  pieces  before  his  eyes,  and 
said,  "You  are  not  my  master."  A  few  days  later 
Valentinian  was  found  strangled,  and  his  throne 
was  given  by  Arbogast  to  a  schoolmaster,  Euge- 
nius,  a  teacher  of  grammar. 

The  new  government  sought  to  reinforce  itself 
against  the  inevitable  vengeance  of  Theodosius 
by  calling  to  its  side  the  forces  of  the  old  religion. 
The  altar  of  Victory  was  replaced  in  the  Senate- 
house,  the  closed  temples  were  reopened,  the 
abandoned  and  forbidden  ceremonies  were  re- 
sumed. As  the  pagans  marched  to  meet  Theodo- 
sius among  the  foothills  of  the  Alps,  they  vowed 
that  on  their  victorious  return  they  would  stable 
their  horses  in  the  cathedral  of  Milan.  The 
armies  met  beside  the  river  Frigidus,  north  of 
Trieste,  as  Constantine  and  Maxentius,  fifty 
years  before,  had  met  in  the  same  kind  of  con- 
tention, between  Christianity  and  paganism, 
beside  the  Tiber.  At  first  the  armies  of  the  pagans 
prevailed.  Then  Theodosius  prayed,  as  Con- 
stantine had  prayed  before.  He  led  his  army  into 

189 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

battle  crying,  "  Where  is  the  God  of  Theodosius?  " 
A  great  storm  arose,  the  snow  was  blown  fiercely 
into  the  faces  of  the  foe.  It  was  as  when  the  stars 
in  their  courses  fought  against  Sisera.  And  the 
Christians  won. 

Thus  finally  fell  the  ban  of  the  empire  on  the 
ancient  paganism.  It  lingered  long  in  secret 
places,  in  recesses  of  the  woods  and  hills.  Here 
and  there  it  rose,  now  and  again,  in  local,  in- 
effectual protest.  Gradually  it  got  itself  bap- 
tized with  the  names  of  Christian  saints.  Thus 
far  it  is  alive  to-day.  But  with  the  denial  of  the 
petition  of  Symmachus  and  the  defeat  of  the 
forces  of  Eugenius  and  Arbogast  its  existence  as 
a  recognized  religion  came  to  an  end.  The  sons 
of  Arbogast  and  Eugenius  sought  refuge  in  Milan 
with  Ambrose,  and  by  his  intercession  their  lives 
were  spared.  The  fact  is  a  symbol  of  Christianity 
as  a  friendly  conqueror,  at  war  with  paganism 
but  not  with  pagans,  seeking  not  captives  but 
converts. 

ni 

While  the  Christians  were  thus  contending 
with  the  pagans,  another  war  was  coming  to  an 
end,  the  war  of  the  orthodox  against  the  heretics. 

The  Nicene  faith  was  now,  indeed,  the  estab- 
lished creed  of  the  empire.    But  Arianism  con- 

190 


AMBROSE 

tinued.  The  intellectual  diflSculties  which  had 
brought  it  into  being  were  not  suflSciently  met 
by  the  imposition  of  a  theological  formula.  Theo- 
dosius  had  attempted  to  stamp  out  Arianism  by 
a  series  of  decrees  against  it,  but  the  enactment 
and  reenactment  of  the  same  decrees  show  that 
it  had  not  been  found  possible,  or  expedient,  to 
enforce  them. 

The  Theodosian  laws  ran  with  much  more  dif- 
ficulty in  the  West  than  in  the  East,  for  the  em- 
press Justina,  widow  of  Valentinian,  and  mother 
of  the  young  emperors,  Gratian  and  Valentinian 
II,  was  an  Arian.  There  ensued  accordingly  be- 
tween Ambrose  and  Justina  a  strife  similar  to 
that  which  Chrysostom  waged  with  Eudoxia.  The 
conditions  were  different,  in  that  the  contention 
in  Constantinople  turned  upon  matters  social 
and  moral,  while  the  contention  in  Milan  turned 
upon  matters  theological.  The  results  also  were 
different,  because  the  representative  of  the  church 
in  the  one  case  had  been  trained  in  monastic  life, 
apart  from  the  world,  while  the  representative  of 
the  church  in  the  other  case  had  been  trained  in 
political  life,  coming  to  his  ministry  straight  from 
the  governorship  of  a  province. 

Twice  Justina  had  appealed  for  aid  to  Ambrose. 
Twice  Ambrose  had  gone  at  her  request  to  meet 
the  usurper  Maximus.   Maximus  had  taken  ad- 

191 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

vantage  of  the  imperial  situation  in  the  West. 
The  death  of  the  emperor  Valentinian  had  left 
Justina  with  her  two  sons,  Gratian  aged  seven- 
teen, and  Valentinian  II  aged  four.  The  usurper 
had  come  down  with  the  legions  of  Britain  at  his 
back,  had  defeated  and  killed  Gratian,  and  had 
taken  into  his  possession  the  lands  of  Gaul  and 
Spain.  In  a  first  conference  Ambrose  had  held 
him  back  from  Italy  until  the  passes  were  se- 
cured. A  second  conference,  however,  had  been 
unsuccessful.  Down  came  Maximus  over  the 
Alps,  and  Theodosius  had  to  come  and  meet  him 
in  battle.  When  the  weakness  of  Maximus  be- 
came evident,  his  own  soldiers  seized  him,  tore 
his  robe  of  purple  from  his  back  and  his  sandals 
from  his  feet,  and  dragged  him  bound  into  the 
presence  of  Theodosius. 

The  part  thus  taken  by  Ambrose  in  these  pub- 
lic perils  indicates  not  only  his  political  wisdom 
and  his  commanding  personality,  but  the  impor- 
tance of  his  oflSce.  He  speaks  and  acts  as  a  bishop 
on  behalf  of  his  people.  As  citizens,  indeed,  they 
belong  to  the  civil  authority,  to  Justina;  but  as 
Christians  they  belong  to  the  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority, to  Ambrose.  The  inevitable  contention 
between  these  two  authorities  arose  by  reason 
of  the  request  of  Justina  that  a  church  in  Milan 
might  be  used  by  the  Arians. 

192 


AMBROSE 

There  were  many  Arians  in  Milan.  The  bishop 
who  had  preceded  Ambrose  was  of  that  behef. 
The  court  was  largely  Arian.  The  Goths  who 
composed  the  imperial  garrison  were  Arians. 

These  Gothic  soldiers  were  disciples  of  a  mis- 
sionary bishop  whose  great  place  in  the  life  of  the 
fourth  century,  and  in  the  progress  of  religion  and 
of  civilization,  has  been  obscured  by  the  fact  that 
he  labored  among  barbarians,  and  that  the  Chris- 
tianity which  he  taught  was  of  the  Arian  kind. 
Neither  Basil  nor  Gregory  nor  Chrysostom  nor 
Ambrose  exerted  an  influence  so  determining 
and  important  as  did  Ulfilas,  the  Apostle  to  the 
Goths. 

The  parents  of  Ulfilas  had  been  carried  cap- 
tive out  of  Cappadocia  in  one  of  those  incursions 
of  the  third  century  when  the  Goths  destroyed 
the  temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus,  and  spared  the 
library  at  Athens,  in  order,  as  they  said,  that  the 
Greeks  might  be  encouraged  to  read  and  not  to 
fight.  The  lad  had  grown  up  among  the  Goths, 
and  had  come  to  understand  them  as  if  they  were 
his  brothers.  His  parents  taught  him  Greek  and 
Latin,  and  in  the  ten  years  which  he  spent  as  a 
hostage,  or  an  envoy,  in  Constantinople,  he 
learned  theology.  The  city  was  then  Arian,  and 
he  took  Christianity  as  he  found  it  there.  He  was 
made  a  missionary  bishop,  and  returned  to  the 

193 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Goths,  among  whom  he  labored  to  the  end  of  his 
days.  A  chief  source  of  information  about  him 
is  an  account  of  his  life  written  by  a  pupil  of  his, 
Auxentius,  whom  Ambrose  succeeded  in  the 
bishopric  of  Milan. 

Ulfilas  made  two  inestimable  contributions  to 
the  history  of  Europe:  he  translated  the  Bible 
into  the  Gothic  language,  and  he  converted  the 
Goths.  Ulfilas  found  the  Gothic  language  spoken 
but  not  written.  The  Goths  and  their  Teutonic 
neighbors,  the  eventual  conquerors  of  the  em- 
pire and  the  progenitors  of  modern  Europe,  had 
no  literature.  Ulfilas  invented  an  alphabet  out 
of  Greek  and  Latin  and  Runic  materials,  and 
thereby,  translating  the  Bible,  produced  the  first 
book  in  that  language  which  was  the  mother  of 
German  and  of  English.  The  words  and  sentences 
of  Ulfilas  dijffer  from  the  words  and  sentences  of 
Luther  as  the  English  which  is  spoken  at  the  age 
of  eighteen  months  differs  from  the  English  which 
is  spoken  at  the  age  of  eighteen  years.  The  name 
of  Ulfilas  stands  thus  at  the  beginning  of  all  Teu- 
tonic writing.  He  was  the  father  of  it. 

At  the  same  time,  as  the  "Moses  of  the  Goths," 
he  had  his  great  part  in  that  conversion  of  the 
barbarians  which  preserved  the  church  in  the 
midst  of  the  downfall  of  the  empire.  Had  it  not 
been  for  him,  the  invaders  might  have  dealt  with 

194 


AMBROSE 

the  church  in  the  West  as  the  Moslems  dealt  with 
the  church  in  the  East.  The  soldiers  of  Justina's 
bodyguard,  Goths  but  yet  Christians,  represent 
the  mission  of  Ulfilas.  There  is  a  tradition  that 
he  omitted  from  his  translation  the  books  of 
Samuel  and  Kings  because  there  was  so  much 
fighting  in  them.  He  was  afraid  that  his  Goths 
would  like  these  books  better  than  the  Gospels. 
The  age  was  filled  with  the  tragedy  of  war,  but 
it  would  have  been  worse  had  it  not  been  for  the 
ministry  of  Ulfilas. 

Under  the  decrees  of  Theodosius,  the  Arians, 
whether  they  were  soldiers  or  courtiers,  had  no 
church  in  Milan.  Their  places  of  worship  had 
been  taken  from  them.  Justina  asked  that  they 
might  have  a  church,  either  the  Portian  Basilica 
outside  the  walls,  or  the  New  Basilica  within. 
The  request  seems  a  reasonable  one.  "An  em- 
peror," said  Justina,  "took  our  churches  away, 
now  an  empress  would  restore  one  of  them." 

Ambrose  dealt  with  the  matter  as  he  dealt 
afterwards  with  the  demand  of  Theodosius,  that 
the  Christians  rebuild  a  synagogue  which  they 
had  burned*  He  said  that  the  rebuilding  of  a 
synagogue  was  against  religion.  He  declined  to 
consider  the  justice  of  the  case.  He  intimated 
that  the  Jews  may  have  burned  their  own  syna- 
gogue so  that  the  Christians  might  be  compelled 

195 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

to  build  them  a  better  one.  Anyway,  he  said, 
it  was  a  cheap  synagogue;  the  whole  town  of  mean 
houses  was  of  little  value.  And  remember,  he 
added,  how  the  Jews  used  to  burn  our  churches: 
we  never  got  anything  back  from  them.  But  the 
main  point  is  that  we  are  right  and  the  Jews 
are  wrong,  and  that  in  a  contention  between  such 
sides  justice  does  not  count.  This,  said  Ambrose, 
has  to  do  with  religion;  concerning  pecuniary 
causes  consult  your  officers,  but  concerning  reli- 
gion consult  the  priests  of  God. 

He  took  the  same  course  with  Justina.  It  is 
impossible  for  us,  he  said,  to  surrender  a  church 
in  which  you  may  worship  according  to  the  errors 
of  heresy.  In  a  letter  to  his  sister,  Ambrose  de- 
scribed the  contest  which  ensued.  "Some  great 
men,"  he  says,  "counsellors  of  state,  begged  of 
me  to  give  up  the  basilica,  and  to  manage  that 
the  people  should  make  no  disturbance.  I  replied, 
of  course,  that  the  temple  of  God  could  not  be 
surrendered  by  a  bishop."  The  next  day  was 
Palm  Sunday,  and  it  was  reported  to  Ambrose 
in  the  New  Basilica  that  men  were  putting  up  the 
imperial  hangings  on  the  outer  walls  of  the  Por- 
tian  Basilica  to  mark  it  as  the  property  of  the 
court,  and  that  the  people  had  seized  an  Arian 
priest  and  were  at  that  moment  beating  him  in  the 
street.  Ambrose  sent  and  rescued  the  man  from 

109 


AMBROSE 

further  violence.  At  the  beginning  of  Holy  Week, 
fines  were  laid  upon  the  merchants  of  Milan  for 
their  sympathy  with  Ambrose,  and  preparations 
were  made  to  have  the  doors  of  the  Portian 
Church  forced  by  the  soldiers,  and  the  defenders 
who  were  within  thrown  out.  Again  the  counts 
and  tribunes  begged  Ambrose  for  the  sake  of 
peace  to  yield  to  the  imperial  demand.  They 
feared  the  raising  of  a  tumult  which  might  de- 
stroy the  city.  But  Ambrose  would  not  yield. 
Indeed,  it  became  so  plain  that  he  had  the  people 
on  his  side  that  none  of  the  Arians  dared  appear 
alone  upon  the  streets. 

The  services  of  the  Holy  Week  proceeded,  and 
Ambrose  preached  daily  upon  the  appointed  les- 
sons from  the  Book  of  Job.  He  commented  upon 
the  statement  that  Job's  wife  urged  him  to  curse 
God  and  die.  He  referred  to  other  women  in  the 
Bible  who  had  been  in  error:  Eve,  he  said,  de- 
ceived Adam,  Jezebel  persecuted  Elijah,  Herodias 
procured  the  death  of  John.  He  did  not  apply 
these  illustrations  to  the  conduct  of  Justina.  He 
left  the  congregation  to  do  that.  As  the  week 
went  on  the  state  of  public  opinion  was  so  plain 
that  some  of  the  hangings  on  the  Portian  Church 
were  cut  down  by  the  boys.  Even  the  soldiers 
sided  with  the  bishop.  At  last,  on  Good  Friday, 
the  court  withdrew  the  soldiers,  repaid  to  the 

197 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

merchants  the  fines  which  had  been  imposed  upon 
them,  and  confessed  defeat.  Ambrose  told  his 
sister  that  when  the  nobles  were  entreating  the 
young  emperor  to  yield  he  said,  **  If  Ambrose  bade 
you,  you  would  deliver  me  up  to  him  in  chains." 

A  year  passed,  and  the  struggle  was  renewed. 
By  this  time  the  Arians  had  elected  a  bishop  of 
their  own,  another  Auxentius.  Under  his  influ- 
ence Valentinian  issued  a  decree  which  was  under- 
stood to  give  liberty  of  worship  to  Arians,  and  to 
put  the  orthodox  in  peril.  It  sounded  like  the 
renewal  of  the  war  of  religion,  and  the  revival 
of  persecution.  Ambrose  refused  to  enter  into  a 
public  debate  with  Auxentius.  There  was  noth- 
ing, he  said,  in  his  position  which  he  could  change; 
there  was  no  room  for  concession  or  for  arbitra- 
tion. It  was  rumored  that  his  life  was  in  danger. 

Ambrose  took  up  his  residence  in  the  New 
Basilica,  and  the  people  continued  with  him  to 
defend  him,  day  and  night.  Finding  that  the 
time  was  likely  to  be  long,  and  perceiving  the 
need  of  keeping  up  the  courage  of  his  devout 
garrison,  he  introduced  into  the  services  in  which 
they  were  continually  engaged  that  antiphonal 
manner  of  singing  which  Chrysostom  undertook 
to  use  against  the  Arians  in  Constantinople. 

To  this  singing  Ambrose  contributed  both 
words  and  music.  He  took  the  ancient  melodies 

198 


AMBROSE 

of  Christian  worship,  —  derived  perhaps  from 
the  synagogue,  or  perhaps  from  the  cadences  of 
the  chorus  in  the  Greek  plays,  or  perhaps  from 
the  natural  intonations  of  the  voice,  —  and  set 
them  in  definite  order,  making  the  kind  of  chant 
which  is  called  "plain-song."  Afterwards  Gregory 
developed  the  Ambrosian  chant  into  the  Gre- 
gorian. 

Ambrose  wrote  hymns,  some  of  which  continued 
long  in  the  worship  of  the  Western  Church.  Au- 
gustine says  that  Monica,  his  mother,  attended 
these  meetings,  and  he  records  the  impression 
made  on  his  own  soul  by  the  music  which  Am- 
brose had  thus  enriched.  "How  did  I  weep,"  he 
says,  "in  thy  hymns  and  canticles,  touched  to 
the  quick  by  the  voices  of  thy  sweet-attuned 
church!  The  voices  flowed  into  mine  ears,  and 
the  truth  distilled  into  my  heart,  whence  the 
affections  of  my  devotions  overflowed,  and  tears 
ran  down,  and  happy  was  I  therein." 

From  his  retreat  in  the  New  Basilica,  —  al- 
ready called  the  Church  of  Ambrose  and  retain- 
ing that  title  to  this  day,  —  the  bishop  defied  his 
enemies.  Against  Auxentius  the  Arian,  he 
preached  with  all  confidence.  "I  see,"  he  says 
to  the  congregation,  "that  you  are  unusually 
excited  and  disturbed  to-day,  and  that  you  are 
watching  me  with  all  your  eyes.  I  wonder  why. 

199 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Have  you  heard  that  I  have  received  an  imperial 
order  from  the  tribunes  that  I  may  depart  in 
peace,  provided  only  that  I  leave  the  city?  To 
that  order  I  returned  the  reply  that  the  wish  to 
desert  the  church  has  never  entered  into  my 
mind.  I  fear  the  Lord  of  the  universe,  but  I 
do  not  fear  any  emperor  on  earth."  "The  em- 
peror," he  added,  in  words  which  served  as  texts 
for  sermons  for  a  thousand  years,  "the  emperor 
is  within  the  church,  not  above  it."  "As  for  the 
soldiers,  the  clash  of  whose  arms  you  hear  as  I 
speak,  do  not  be  afraid  of  them;  they  will  not 
harm  you." 

In  the  midst  of  this  state  of  siege  there  ap- 
peared unexpected  reinforcements.  Ambrose  de- 
scribes the  dramatic  event  in  one  of  his  letters 
to  his  sister.  The  people  asked  him,  he  says,  to 
consecrate  the  church,  and  especially  to  hallow 
it,  if  possible,  with  relics  of  martyrs.  He  replied 
that  he  would  do  so  if  he  could  find  any.  Then, 
he  says,  "a  kind  of  prophetic  ardor  seemed  to 
enter  my  heart."  Under  the  influence  of  this 
"ardor,"  he  sent  men  to  dig  away  the  earth  before 
the  chancel  screen  of  the  Church  of  St.  Felix  and 
St.  Nabor.  And  as  they  dug,  behold,  the  blood 
and  bones  of  two  men  of  marvellous  stature! 
Surely,  cried  the  oldest  inhabitants,  the  bodies 
of  Protasius  and  Gervasius,  martyrs  long  for- 

200 


AMBROSE 

gotten!  To  this  happy  identification  the  relics 
immediately  and  generously  responded.  A  blind 
man,  named  Severus,  who  had  been  a  butcher 
but  had  lost  his  job  by  reason  of  his  failing  sight, 
—  the  details  are  from  Ambrose's  letter,  —  did 
but  touch  the  hem  of  the  cloth  which  covered 
these  precious  relics  when  his  eyes  were  opened, 
and  he  saw  plain;  and  others  who  followed  him 
were  likewise  healed. 

The  martyrs  were  brought  over  to  the  Am- 
brosian  Basilica  and  buried  beneath  the  high 
altar.  There  stand  their  tombs  in  the  crypt  to 
this  day.  The  two  saints  had  come  to  the  rescue 
of  the  true  faith  as  the  two  gods.  Castor  and 
Pollux,  came  to  the  aid  of  the  Romans  at  Lake 
Regillus.  The  new  enthusiasm  swept  the  city. 
It  was  now  so  clear,  beyond  all  doubt,  that 
Heaven  was  on  the  side  of  Ambrose,  that  the 
Arian  aggression  ceased. 

IV 

The  most  dramatic  event  in  the  life  of  Ambrose, 
exceeding  his  debate  with  Symmachus  over  the 
altar  of  Victory,  and  his  contention  with  Justina 
over  the  possession  of  the  churches,  was  his  re- 
pulse of  Theodosius  after  that  emperor's  great 
sin. 

Theodosius,  both  in  position  and  in  person,  was 
20t 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

one  of  the  greatest  of  the  emperors  of  Rome.  He 
was  the  last  ruler  of  the  undivided  empire,  the 
last  sovereign  to  bear  sway  both  in  Constanti- 
nople and  in  Rome.  But  he  was  an  unsuccessful 
ruler  of  himself.  Upon  a  memorable  and  tragic 
occasion  he  lost  his  self-control  over  the  conduct 
of  the  people  of  Thessalonica.  On  the  eve  of  a 
chariot -race  in  which  the  Thessalonians  were 
excitedly  interested,  one  of  the  chief  charioteers 
committed  an  abominable  crime,  and  the  gov- 
ernor, Botheric,  put  him  in  prison,  and  refused 
to  let  him  out,  even  for  the  race.  Thereupon  the 
city  rose  in  riot,  released  the  prisoner,  and  put 
the  governor  to  death.  Theodosius,  urged  by 
his  ministers  of  state  and  by  his  own  fierce  anger, 
sent  a  company  of  soldiers  to  take  vengeance  on 
the  city.  One  account  says  that  the  people  were 
assembled  in  the  circus,  and  that  the  soldiers 
marching  in  and  locking  the  gates  behind  them 
killed  everybody  in  sight.  Accounts  agree  that 
the  massacre  lasted  for  three  hours,  and  resulted 
in  the  murder  of  seven  thousand  persons.  The 
innocent  perished  with  the  guilty. 

The  tragedy  stirred  even  that  blood-stained 
world.  It  was  perceived  to  be  a  crime  not  only 
against  religion,  but  against  civilization.  It  was 
an  assertion  that  the  sovereign  is  outside  the 
range  of  law  and  justice,  and  may  work  his  own 

202 


AMBROSE 

will  without  restraint.  That  was  a  commonplace 
with  Caligula  and  Commodus,  but  the  world  was 
older  now  and  the  emperor  was  supposed  to  be 
a  Christian,  "within  the  church,"  as  Ambrose 
said,  "not  above  it":  within  and  not  above  the 
kingdom  of  Christ. 

Ambrose  wrote  to  Theodosius.  "Listen,  august 
Emperor,"  he  says.  "I  cannot  deny  that  you 
have  a  zeal  for  the  faith;  I  do  confess  that  you 
have  the  fear  of  God.  Nevertheless,  there  was 
that  done  in  the  city  of  the  Thessalonians  of  which 
no  similar  record  exists  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  Are  you  ashamed,  O  Emperor,  to  do  that 
which  royal  David  did,  who  when  his  offence 
was  pointed  out,  and  he  was  condemned  by  the 
prophet,  said,  *I  have  sinned  against  the  Lord'? 
Put  away  now  this  sin  from  your  kingdom:  hum- 
ble your  soul  before  God.  Sin  is  not  done  away 
but  by  tears  and  penitence.  I  am  writing  with  my 
own  hand  that  which  you  alone  may  read.  I  had 
a  dream  about  you,  that  you  came  to  church, 
and  that  the  Lord  did  not  permit  me  to  offer  the 
holy  sacrifice  while  you  were  present.  The  dream 
was  a  revelation  of  the  truth.  You  are  to  pray, 
you  are  to  repent;  then,  and  not  till  then,  may 
you  approach  the  table  of  the  Lord." 

The  Church  of  St.  Ambrose  in  Milan  is  still 
approached  by  a  cloistered  courtyard,  opening 

203 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

from  the  street.  The  present  structure  is  perhaps 
no  earlier  than  the  twelfth  century,  but  the  court- 
yard follows  the  ancient  lines,  and  the  oak  door, 
carved  with  scenes  from  the  life  of  David,  is  said 
to  have  belonged  to  the  original  church.  There 
Ambrose  met  Theodosius.  The  emperor,  paying 
no  attention  to  the  letter,  was  about  to  enter 
when  the  bishop  repelled  him.  He  laid  hold  upon 
Theodosius  by  his  purple  robe,  and  turned  him 
away. 

It  is  one  of  the  supreme  scenes  of  history.  We 
remember  as  we  look  upon  it  how  Henry  IV  of 
Germany  stood  barefoot  in  the  snow  at  Canossa 
before  the  closed  door  of  Pope  Gregory  VII,  and 
how  Henry  II  of  England  suffered  himself  to 
be  scourged  by  the  monks  of  Canterbury  for  the 
death  of  Thomas  a  Becket.  It  was  a  precedent 
for  ambitious  prelates  throughout  the  Middle 
Ages.  Here  the  church  confronted  the  state,  and 
rebuked  the  ruler  of  the  world. 

But  of  all  this  there  was  no  more  in  the  soul  of 
Ambrose  than  in  the  soul  of  Nathan  before  David, 
or  of  John  the  Baptist  before  Herod.  Ambrose 
had,  indeed,  the  pride  of  his  order.  It  is  true  that 
he  once  said  that  priests  ought  to  judge  laymen, 
and  not  laymen  priests.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
he  behaved  himself  as  an  ecclesiastic  rather  than 
as  a  Christian  in  the  matter  of  the  rebuilding  of 

204 


AMBROSE 

the  synagogue.  He  was  an  imperious  person 
temperamentally  and  officially.  But  that  day  at 
the  church  gate  he  represented  the  Christian  ideal 
of  a  right  life  over  against  the  spirit  of  the  world. 
The  church,  speaking  by  his  voice,  was  at  its 
best  that  day.  Theodosius  was  the  greatest  man 
on  earth,  the  ruler  of  the  world,  but  Ambrose  was 
stronger  than  Theodosius  in  the  strength  of  the 
moral  law  of  God. 

Eight  months  passed  before  the  emperor  was 
readmitted  to  the  church.  They  liked  to  tell  in 
the  old  days,  how  he  laid  aside  his  imperial  robes 
and  spent  the  time  in  prayer  and  penitence,  and 
how,  coming  at  last  a  humble  suppliant  and  re- 
ceived by  Ambrose,  he  prostrated  himself  upon 
the  floor  of  the  church  in  the  presence  of  the  con- 
gregation, crying  with  tears,  "My  soul  cleaveth 
unto  the  dust;  quicken  thou  me  according  to  thy 
word."  It  is  certain  that  Ambrose  subjected 
Theodosius  to  penitential  discipline,  and  that  he 
required  him  to  make  a  law,  which  is  still  in  force 
in  Christian  countries,  that  a  space  of  thirty  days 
must  intervene  between  condemnation  and  pun- 
ishment. 

One  day,  after  the  emperor  had  been  restored 
to  the  privilege  of  the  Holy  Communion,  he  re- 
mained in  the  chancel  among  the  presbyters. 
Remembering  how  his  predecessor  Constantine 

205 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

had  been  the  head  of  the  church,  and  the  bishop 
of  the  bishops,  even  before  he  was  baptized,  such 
a  place  of  honor  seemed  appropriate.  The  kings 
of  the  old  order,  David  and  Solomon  and  their 
successors,  had  offered  the  sacrifices:  were  not 
the  kings  of  the  new  order  as  good  as  they?  The 
polite  Nectarius,  who  preceded  Chrysostom  in 
the  bishopric  of  Constantinople,  formally  invited 
Theodosius  to  a  place  in  the  sanctuary.  Not  so 
Ambrose.  He  sent  a  messenger  to  remind  the 
emperor  that  "the  purple  makes  emperors,  not 
priests."  And  Theodosius  quietly  took  his  place 
among  the  laymen. 

'  It  meant  at  the  moment  that  the  man  with 
the  gold  ring  was  being  treated  according  to  the 
counsel  given  in  the  Epistle  of  St.  James.  Am- 
brose had  no  respect  of  persons.  It  meant  also 
that  there  was  a  spiritual  power  in  the  world 
before  which  the  claims  of  wealth  and  position 
had  no  place.  The  time  came  when  imitators  of 
Ambrose  were  filled  with  ambition,  and  authority 
in  the  chancel  was  no  more  spiritual  or  moral 
than  authority  in  the  nave:  they  were  both  secu- 
lar together,  differing  only  in  their  dress.  But  in 
the  time  of  Ambrose,  and  long  after,  the  great 
need  of  the  confused  and  troubled  world  was  a 
clear  assertion,  such  as  he  made,  of  the  ever- 
lasting supremacy  of  religion. 

206 


AMBROSE 

In  the  beginning  of  his  Life  of  Ambrose,  Pauli- 
nus,  who  had  been  his  secretary,  says  that  in  his 
infancy  as  he  lay  asleep  in  his  cradle  a  swarm  of 
bees  settled  on  his  face;  and  that  in  his  old  age,  as 
he  preached,  a  flame  of  soft  fire  glowed  about  his 
head.  It  is  remembered  of  him  that  he  was  as  kind 
as  he  was  commanding.  One  time,  to  pay  the  ran- 
som of  captives  taken  in  battle,  he  took  the  silver 
vessels  from  the  altar,  melted  them  down  and 
sold  them.  He  was  a  plain,  uncompromising, 
faithful  and  fearless  preacher.  "When  I  came 
down  from  the  pulpit,"  he  wrote  to  his  sister,  "the 
Emperor  said,  *  You  spoke  about  me.'  I  replied,  *I 
dealt  with  matters  intended  for  your  benefit.' " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

CHRYSOSTOM 

THE  ministry  of  John,  who  for  his  eloquence 
was  called  Chrysostom,  the  Golden  Mouth, 
falls  into  four  divisions.  It  begins  with'his  austeri- 
ties as  a  monk  in  the  mountains  of  Syria,  and  ends 
with  his  banishment  and  death  among  the  moun- 
tains of  Armenia;  between  this  prologue  and  this 
epilogue  are  the  twelve  years  of  his  activity  as  a 
preacher  in  Antioch  and  the  six  years  of  his  activ- 
ity as  a  bishop  in  Constantinople. 


The  city  of  Antioch  lay  between  a  pagan  river 
and  a  Christian  mountain. 

The  river  was  made  pagan  by  the  Grove  of 
Daphne,  a  pleasure  -  garden  on  its  banks.  The 
garden  was  ten  miles  in  circumference,  planted 
with  laurel  and  myrtle,  with  cypress  trees  and 
scented  shrubs,  and  watered  by  running  streams. 
In  the  midst  stood  a  noble  temple  dedicated  to 
Apollo,  and  commemorating  the  legend  that  in 
this  place  Daphne,  pursued  by  the  wanton  god, 
had  been  transformed  into  a  laurel  tree.    The 

208 


CHRYSOSTOM 

temple  was  built  of  polished  marble  and  carved 
cypress,  and  contained  an  image  of  Apollo,  blaz- 
ing with  gems. 

The  emperor  Julian,  coming  to  consult  the  or- 
acle, had  found  it  dumb,  and  after  repeated  ef- 
forts to  gain  a  reply  had  been  informed  that  the 
god  was  silent  because  the  place  was  polluted  by 
the  presence  of  a  dead  body.  These  words  pointed 
plainly  to  the  relics  of  the  Christian  martyr 
Babylas,  whose  chapel  stood  beside  the  temple, 
and  whose  fame  at  that  time  exceeded  the  sanc- 
tity of  Ignatius,  and  even  of  Paul  and  Peter. 
Julian  ordered  the  removal  of  Babylas  and  the 
order  was  obeyed,  but  the  translation  was  effected 
with  a  long  procession  and  a  splendid  ceremony 
whereby  the  Christians,  while  yielding  to  the 
emperor,  defied  him.  That  night  the  temple  of 
Apollo  —  perhaps  struck  by  lightning,  or  per- 
haps not  —  was  burned  to  the  ground. 

One  of  the  boys  who  joined  in  the  procession 
and  went  to  see  the  fire  was  the  John  whom  we 
know  as  Chrysostom.  In  this  he  was  encouraged 
by  his  devout  mother,  Anthusa.  She  had  been 
left  a  widow  at  the  age  of  twenty,  having  this  only 
child  now  fifteen  years  of  age.  She  had  brought  up 
her  son  in  the  Christian  faith. 

The  lad  came  under  the  influence  of  two  effec- 
tive teachers.  One  was  the  pagan  Libanius,  mas- 

209 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

ter  of  rhetoric,  who  said  afterwards  that  Chrysos- 
tom  should  have  been  his  successor  if  the  Chris- 
tians had  not  stolen  him.  The  other  was  the 
Christian  Diodorus,  whose  "pale  face,  sunken 
cheeks  and  emaciated  frame"  had  aroused  the 
ridicule  of  Julian,  who  accounted  it  absurd  that 
God  could  care  for  a  man  of  his  mean  appearance. 
Libanius  made  John  an  orator;  Diodorus  made 
him  a  saint. 

Diodorus  was  the  abbot  of  a  monastery  in  the 
mountain  which  was  made  Christian  by  its  use  as 
a  sanctuary.  The  woods  which  covered  the  slopes 
of  the  hills  were  filled  with  monks,  some  solitary, 
some  in  companies,  fasting  and  praying.  The 
heart  of  Chrysostom  turned  toward  the  moun- 
tain. Every  day  he  lifted  up  his  eyes  unto  the  hills, 
turning  his  back  upon  the  river.  Antioch  was  so 
corrupt  a  city  that  Latin  moralists  declared  that 
it  poisoned  even  the  air  of  Rome.  It  was  as  beau- 
tiful as  it  was  wicked.  It  made  vice  attractive. 
But  its  temptations  did  not  allure  Chrysostom. 
He  was  intent  with  all  his  heart  upon  the  life  of 
the  spirit.  At  first  he  lived  at  home,  obeying  the 
wish  of  his  mother,  making  his  room  a  monastic 
cell.  Then  he  sought  the  nearer  presence  of  God 
on  the  heights  of  Mt.  Silpius.  For  a  time  he  lived 
in  community,  practising  asceticism  moderately; 
then  he  became  a  hermit,  practising  asceticism 

210 


CHRYSOSTOM 

beyond  the  boundaries  of  reason.  He  tried  to  live 
as  if  he  had  no  body. 

After  four  years  of  this  experience  Chrysostom 
came  down  from  the  mountain,  having  strength- 
ened and  enriched  his  soul  with  prayer  and  medi- 
tation, having  filled  his  mind  and  his  memory 
with  the  words  of  the  Bible,  but  having  seriously 
impaired  his  health.  He  had  cultivated  his  spirit, 
but  had  ruined  his  digestion. 


n  ^.rj^^^>^ 


Returning  to  Antioch,  he  was  ordained,  and 
entered  into  the  active  work  of  the  ministry.  He 
began  to  preach.  Coming  out  of  the  solitude  of 
the  woods,  from  those  years  of  silence,  and  now 
appearing  among  men,  like  John  the  Baptist,  he 
attracted  immediate  attention.  He  took  what  old 
Libanius  had  taught  him  and  used  it  in  the  serv- 
ice of  religion.  To  the  art  of  the  orator  which  he 
had  learned  he  added  the  spirit  of  a  prophet.  He 
became  in  Antioch  what  Demosthenes  had  been 
in  Athens,  and  Cicero  in  Rome. 

In  this  he  had  no  help  from  a  commanding  pres- 
ence. He  was  a  small,  slender,  bald  man,  without 
even  the  assistance  of  a  strong  voice.  But  what  he 
said  was  clear  and  definite,  nobody  could  mistake 
what  he  meant;  he  had  emotion,  he  had  humor, 
he  had  sympathy,  he  had  passion,  he  had  the  exu- 

211 


/ 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

berant  style  which  his  Syrian  congregation  liked. 
And  he  addressed  himself  straight  to  common  life. 
In  the  midst  of  the  inveterate  dissensions  of  the 
church  of  Antioch,  where  the  Christians  who 
should  have  cleaned  the  town  were  debating  mat- 
ters ecclesiastical  in  the  temper  of  hostile  parti- 
sans, and  matters  theological  which  were  as  re- 
mote from  the  needs  of  Antioch  as  lectures  on  the 
political  opinions  of  the  citizens  of  the  moon, 
Chrysostom  was  neither  theologian  nor  ecclesias- 
tic. He  was  profoundly  concerned  about  practical 
morality,  the  enemy  of  moral  evil  and  the  advo- 
cate of  righteousness.  That  which  was  of  supreme 
importance  to  him  —  for  the  sake  of  which  both 
creed  and  church  existed  —  was  character. 

The  sermons  of  Chrysostom  were  taken  down  in 
shorthand,  and  we  have  them  as  he  spoke  them. 
He  stood  on  a  platform  in  the  midst  of  the  church, 
where  he  could  touch  his  nearest  listeners  with  his 
hand.  The  word  "homily"  describes  these  dis- 
courses in  their  informality  and  familiarity.  He 
was  accustomed  to  take  his  text  out  of  the  Bible 
in  order,  verse  by  verse,  and  chapter  by  chapter. 
Thus  he  expounded  the  Scriptures.  For  example, 
he  preached  ninety  sermons  on  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount.  In  the  course  of  his  ministry  he  went  thus 
over  almost  the  entire  Bible.  The  sermon  began 
with  the  text,  and  then  proceeded  freely  now  in 

212 


CHRYSOSTOM 

this  direction,  now  in  that,  as  the  preacher's  mind 
invited  him,  ending  always  with  a  practical  appli- 
cation. There  was  rarely  any  single  theme,  rarely 
any  process  of  argument,  never  a  logical  succes- 
sion of  points  such  as  appeared  in  the  discourses  of 
the  preachers  of  the  Reformation  and  of  the  Puri- 
tan Revolution.  Chrysostom  was  as  discursive 
as  a  honey-bee,  in  whose  wanderings  there  is  no 
consistency,  except  the  consistent  purpose  to  go 
wherever  there  is  honey,  and  to  get  as  much  of  it 
as  possible.  Meanwhile  the  congregation,  when 
the  preacher  pleased  them,  freely  applauded. 

Chrysostom  censured  the  social  follies  of  the 
people.  He  criticised  with  much  plainness  of 
speech  the  attire  of  the  women.  He  was  as  con- 
crete as  Isaiah.  He  objected  to  their  false  hair  and 
their  painted  faces,  to  their  cloth  of  gold,  their 
perfumes  and  their  necklaces,  their  mules  splen- 
didly harnessed,  their  black  servants  adorned  with 
silver,^  and  to  the  idle  and  selfish  lives  of  which 
these  were  the  symbols.  With  equal  plainness  he 
told  the  men  that  they  ate  too  much  and  drank 
too  much,  and  were  overfond  of  plays  and  games. 
"Answer  me,"  he  said,  "what  do  you  talk  about? 
About  dinner?  Why,  that  is  a  subject  for  cooks. 
Of  money?  Nay,  that  is  a  theme  for  hucksters 
and  merchants.    Of  buildings?   That  belongs  to 

*  Romans,  Horn. 
213 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

carpenters  and  builders.  Of  land?  That  is  talk  for 
husbandmen.  But  for  us,  there  is  no  other  proper 
business  save  this,  how  we  may  make  wealth  for 
the  soul."  He  objected  to  their  banquets,  and 
not  to  those  only  which  were  held  in  the  houses  of 
the  rich.  "This  advice,"  he  says,  "I  am  giving 
not  to  the  rich  only,  but  to  the  poor  too,  especially 
those  that  club  together  for  social  parties,  with 
shouts  and  cheers  and  low  songs,  followed  by 
headaches." '  He  was  of  the  opinion  of  Aristotle 
who  said  that  "general  discourses  on  moral  mat- 
ters are  pretty  nearly  useless";  it  is  in  particulars 
that  effective  truth  is  told. 

The  preacher  addressed  himself  to  the  everlast- 
ing problem  of  poverty  and  riches.  He  dealt  with 
the  slavery  of  the  time,  endeavoring  not  to  re- 
move but  to  mitigate  it.  How  often,  he  said,  as  I 
pass  your  houses  in  the  street,  I  hear  the  mistress 
screaming  in  fury,  and  the  maid  crying  in  pain. 
He  told  the  rich  that  they  made  their  employees 
work  like  mules,  and  cared  no  more  for  them  than 
for  the  stones  in  the  pavement.  Empty-handed, 
he  said,  and  in  debt  they  return  from  their  hard 
labor.  He  rebuked  the  vice  of  avarice.  All  evil 
comes  from  "mine"  and  "thine."  Fortunes  are 
made  by  injustice,  by  violence,  by  dishonesty,  by 
monopoly,  by  taking  interest  at  twelve  per  cent. 

>  Romans,  Horn.  xxiv. 
214 


CHRYSOSTOM 

The  preacher  complained,  with  a  frankness 
which  many  a  discreet  parson  of  our  own  day  may 
envy,  of  the  absence  of  the  people  from  the  serv- 
ices of  the  church.  No  discomfort,  he  says,  no 
stress  of  weather,  will  keep  you  from  the  circus, 
while  a  cloud  the  size  of  a  man's  hand  will  keep 
you  from  the  service.  He  complained  of  the  be- 
havior of  the  congregation.  Prayer  is  going  on^ 
and  all  are  kneeling,  but  not  all  are  praying;  some 
are  stupidly  unconcerned,  some  are  talking,  some 
are  laughing.  It  is  impossible  for  me,  he  says,  to 
see  all  that  is  going  on,  but  you  see  it.  Why  do 
you  not  put  a  stop  to  it?  If  you  were  at  home  and 
saw  a  silver  plate  tossed  out  of  doors,  you  would 
go  and  pick  it  up.  Help  me,  in  like  manner,  to 
keep  devout  order  in  the  church.  People  act  in 
the  house  of  God  as  if  they  were  in  the  theatre. 
Even  during  the  sermon  some  go  out,  some  sleep, 
and  women  chatter  among  themselves  about  their 
children.  At  the  least  distraction,  everybody's 
attention  flies  away.  There,  he  says,  you  are  all 
looking  now  at  the  man  who  lights  the  lamps! 

In  the  midst  of  this  plain,  homely,  faithful 
preaching  came  the  crash  of  a  great  tragedy. 
Theodosius  had  now  been  for  ten  years  on  the 
throne  of  the  empire,  and  he  proposed  to  celebrate 
the  anniversary.  It  was  the  custom  on  such  an 
imperial  occasion  to  give  a  donation  to  the  army; 

^15 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

every  soldier  had  an  addition  to  his  pay.  To  meet 
this  expense,  the  emperor  announced  that  a  tax 
would  be  levied  on  the  larger  cities.  Of  these  cities 
Antioch  was  one,  being  the  third  in  the  empire  for 
size  and  wealth.  But  the  Antiochians  hated  to  be 
taxed.  When  the  proclamation  was  publicly  and 
officially  read  it  was  received  for  the  moment  in 
ominous  silence,  and  then  the  reading  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  riot.  The  public  buildings  were  at- 
tacked by  a  mad  mob.  They  sacked  the  splendid 
Baths  of  Caligula,  cutting  the  ropes  which  held 
the  brazen  lamps  and  letting  them  crash  upon  the 
stone  floor,  even  trying  to  hack  down  the  shade 
trees  in  the  garden.  They  invaded  the  governor's 
house,  and  forced  their  way  into  his  hall  of  judg- 
ment. There  stood  the  statues  of  the  emperor, 
of  the  empress  lately  dead,  of  the  two  princes, 
Honorius  and  Arcadius,  his  sons,  and  of  his  father. 
In  the  clamoring  crowd  was  a  boy  with  a  stone; 
he  threw  it  and  hit  the  image  of  the  emperor.  At 
once,  as  if  some  spring  of  evil  magic  had  been 
touched,  and  some  devilish  incantation  had 
thereby  been  wrought,  the  mad  mob  went  wild. 
They  fell  upon  the  imperial  statues,  broke  them 
into  pieces,  and  proceeded  to  drag  the  dismem- 
bered stumps  through  the  mud  of  the  streets.  In 
this  manner  they  conducted  themselves  for  three 
hours.   Then  they  began  to  consider  what  they 

216 


CHRYSOSTOM 

were  doing.   They  began  to  ask.  What  will  the 
emperor  do? 

The  offence  both  of  those  who  had  broken  and 
insulted  the  statues  and  of  those  who  had  not 
prevented  them  was  enormous.  The  men  would 
be  held  guilty  of  transgression  not  against  the 
government  only,  but  against  heaven.  There  were 
many  who  would  remember  how  in  times  not  long 
past  the  emperor  of  Rome  had  been  regarded  not 
only  as  a  ruler,  but  as  a  god.  This  belief,  indeed, 
had  not  outlived  the  change  of  imperial  religion 
from  pagan  to  Christian,  but  it  still  imparted  a 
peculiar  quality  to  the  sacred  person  of  the  em- 
peror. The  governor  of  Antioch  brought  his  sol- 
diers, and  returned  to  his  house  from  which  he 
had  prudently  fled.  Such  of  the  ringleaders  as 
could  be  identified  were  put  to  death.  Men  of 
wealth  and  position  in  the  city  were  summoned, 
examined  by  torture,  deprived  of  their  property 
by  a  confiscation  which  turned  their  wives  and 
children  into  the  street,  and  were  thrust  into  the 
prisons  which  Libanius  had  been  urging  them  to 
reform.  Messengers  were  sent  to  inform  Theo- 
dosius  at  Constantinople,  and  to  ask  his  will. 
And  following  the  messengers  went  Flavian  the 
bishop,  a  man  of  eighty  years,  undertaking  in 
the  snows  of  winter  a  journey  of  eight  hundred 
miles  to  intercede  with  the  Christian  emperor  for 

217 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  Christian  city.  Weeks  of  suspense  followed. 
Lent  came  on.  The  great  church  where  Chrysos- 
tom  was  preaching  every  day  was  filled  with  peni- 
tents. All  the  places  of  amusement  were  shut  up. 
The  city  waited  for  the  decision  of  the  emperor  as 
if  it  stood  before  the  judgment  seat  of  God. 

Under  these  conditions,  Chrysostom  preached 
the  Sermons  of  the  Statues. 

At  first,  in  the  tumult  of  the  calamity,  he  re- 
frained from  preaching.  "We  have  been  silent 
seven  days,"  he  says,  "even  as  the  friends  of  Job 
were."  Now  he  begins  to  speak:  "I  mourn  now 
and  lament."  Lately,  he  says,  we  had  an  earth- 
quake and  the  walls  of  our  houses  were  shaken, 
now  our  very  souls  are  shaken.  "  Wherever  any 
one  looks  abroad,  whether  upon  the  columns  of 
the  city  or  upon  his  neighbors,  he  seems  to  see 
night  and  deep  gloom,  so  full  is  all  with  melan- 
choly. There  is  a  silence  big  with  horror,  and 
loneliness  everywhere."  "So  great  a  city,  the 
head  of  those  which  lie  under  the  eastern  sky,  now 
in  peril  of  destruction ! "  We  have  indeed  insulted 
a  monarch,  the  summit  and  head  of  all  the  earth. 
Let  us  take  refuge  in  the  King  that  is  above.  Let 
us  call  Him  to  our  aid. 

Then  he  exhorts  them  to  put  away  their  sins. 
He  had  preached  already  on  the  vice  of  blas- 
phemy, and  during  these  Lenten  sermons  he  re- 

218 


CHRYSOSTOM 

fers  to  it  frequently.  You  were  insulting  God,  he 
tells  them,  and  thinking  that  He  did  not  hear  or 
care.  Now  He  has  permitted  you  to  insult  the  em- 
peror, and  to  come  in  peril  of  his  anger,  that  you 
may  understand  what  your  oaths  mean.  Come, 
now,  put  an  end  to  profane  language.  Let  no  one 
go  out  of  this  church  as  he  came  in,  but  better! 
They  applauded  there,  and  the  preacher  cried, 
"What  need  have  I  of  these  cheers  and  tumultu- 
ous signs  of  approval?  The  praise  I  seek  is  that 
ye  show  forth  all  I  have  said  in  your  works."  See, 
he  says,  how  all  your  wealth  is  unavailing.  Your 
houses  which  you  have  built  and  adorned  at  such 
expense,  they  cannot  deliver  you.  Build  your- 
selves houses  in  the  heavens. 

The  bishop  sets  out  on  his  journey  of  interces- 
sion, and  Chrysostom  preaches,  pointing  to  his 
empty  seat.  He  remarks  upon  his  old  age,  and 
how  he  has  left  his  sister  at  the  point  of  death  for 
their  sake.  "I  know,"  he  says,  "that  when  he  has 
barely  seen  our  pious  emperor,  and  been  seen  by 
him,  he  will  be  able  by  his  very  countenance  to 
allay  his  wrath.  He  will  take  his  text  from  this 
holy  season.  He  will  remind  the  emperor  of  that 
sacred  day  when  Christ  remitted  the  sins  of  the 
whole  world.  He  will  add  that  prayer  which  the 
emperor  was  taught  when  he  was  admitted  to  the 
Holy  Communion,  'Forgive  us  our  trespasses,  as 

219  . 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us.'  He 
will  bring  to  his  memory  that  in  this  city  the 
faithful  were  first  called  Christians.  And  the  em- 
peror will  listen  to  him.  Let  us  assist  him  with 
our  prayers;  let  us  supplicate;  let  us  go  on  em- 
bassy to  the  King  that  is  above  with  many  tears. 
And  remember  how  it  is  written  of  repentant 
Nineveh,  *God  saw  their  works/  —  not  their 
fasting,  not  their  sackcloth;  nothing  of  the  sort. 
*They  turned  every  one  from  their  evil  ways, 
and  the  Lord  repented  of  the  evil  that  he  had 
said  he  would  do  unto  them.'  " 

Rumors  drift  to  Antioch  from  Constantinople, 
now  good,  now  bad :  the  emperor  will  do  this,  the 
emperor  will  do  that.  One  time  the  governor 
must  speak  in  the  church,  to  reassure  the  congre- 
gation, and  dissuade  them  from  fleeing  from  the 
city.  The  monks  come  down  from  the  surround- 
ing hills  to  join  their  prayers  and  lamentations 
with  the  citizens.  The  messengers  return,  who 
had  set  out  before  the  bishop,  and  are  now  back 
again  before  he  has  had  an  audience  with  Theo- 
dosius.  The  worst  has  not  befallen  the  offending 
city,  but  it  is  bad  enough.  "We  expected,"  says 
Chrysostom,  "innumerable  horrors,  that  the  pro- 
perty of  all  was  to  be  plundered,  the  houses  de- 
stroyed together  with  their  inhabitants,  the  city 
snatched  away  from  the  midst  of  the  world,  and 

220 


CHRYSOSTOM 

all  its  relics  obliterated,  and  its  soil  ploughed  up." 
But  the  emperor  was  content  to  degrade  Antioch 
from  its  metropolitan  position,  and  to  close  all  its 
places  of  amusement.  I  thank  God,  cries  Chrys- 
ostom,  may  they  never  be  reopened ! 

At  last  the  bishop  returned,  just  before  Easter. 
He  had  had  a  conference  with  the  emperor.  He 
had  confessed,  indeed,  the  transgression  of  his 
people.  But  he  had  cited  the  precedent  of  Con- 
stantine  who,  when  a  statue  of  himself  had  been 
pelted  with  stones,  and  his  whole  face,  as  they 
said,  battered  and  broken,  stroked  his  face  with 
his  hand,  and  replied  smiling,  "I  do  not  find  the 
mark  of  any  wound."  He  had  declared  that  the 
emperor  had  it  now  in  his  power  to  set  up  in  his 
honor  the  most  splendid  statue  in  the  world. 
"For,"  he  said,  "if  you  remit  the  offences  of  those 
who  have  done  you  injury,  and  take  no  revenge 
upon  them,  they  will  erect  a  statue  to  you,  not  of 
brass,  nor  of  gold,  nor  inlaid  with  gems,  but  one 
arrayed  in  that  robe  which  is  more  precious  than 
the  costliest  material,  the  robe  of  humanity  and 
tender  mercy.  Every  man  will  thus  set  you  up 
in  his  own  soul."  To  these  petitions  Theodosius 
graciously  responded.  He  forgave  the  city.  Go 
now,  says  the  preacher,  at  the  close  of  the  sermon 
in  which  he  described  the  interview,  go,  light  the 
lamps,  and  decorate  the  shops  with  green,  and 

221 


\ 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

keep  high  festival,  remembering  always  to  give 
thanks  to  God  who  loveth  man. 


Ill 


Ten  years  of  this  plain,  faithful,  and  eloquent 
preaching  followed.  Then  suddenly  the  scene  was 
changed.  The  ministry  of  Chrysostom  as  presby- 
ter and  reformer  of  the  people  of  Antioch  was 
followed  by  his  ministry  as  bishop  and  his  vain 
endeavors  to  reform  the  clergy  and  the  court  of 
Constantinople. 

The  see  of  Constantinople  was  vacant.  The 
episcopal  chair  which  Gregory  had  so  suddenly 
and  cheerfully  left  empty  had  been  filled  by  the 
appointment  of  Nectarius,  a  rich,  courteous,  hos- 
pitable, and  contented  person.  During  the  years 
of  his  episcopate  he  had  never  brought  anybody 
into  trouble.  He  had  never  seriously  interfered 
in  the  affairs  of  the  pleasant  society  in  which  he 
lived.  Now  he  was  dead.  Theodosius  was  dead 
also;  Arcadius  was  emperor  in  the  East,  —  a  dull, 
incapable  young  man,  under  the  influence  of  his 
minister  of  state,  Eutropius  the  Eunuch. 

Eutropius  had  had  an  extraordinary  history. 
Bom  a  slave  in  the  valley  of  the  Euphrates,  he 
had  grown  to  manhood  in  that  servile  condition, 
cutting  wood,  drawing  water,  and  performing  the 
most  menial  oflBces.  One  of  his  masters  had  given 


CHRYSOSTOM 

him  as  a  part  of  her  dowry  to  his  daughter.  His 
business  was  to  comb  her  hair  and  fan  her  with  a 
fan  of  peacock's  feathers.  Growing  now  old  and 
wrinkled,  and  his  mistress  becoming  weary  of  the 
sight  of  him,  she  tried  to  sell  him.  Being  unable  to 
find  a  purchaser  at  any  price  she  turned  him  into 
the  street.  After  a  time  of  the  direst  poverty, 
living  on  the  scraps  which  he  got  by  begging 
at  back  doors,  he  found  a  job  in  the  emperor's 
kitchen.  Here  he  was  so  fortunate  as  to  attract 
the  attention  of  Theodosius.  Thus  he  crept  from 
one  step  to  another  till  he  became  chamberlain  of 
the  palace.  In  this  position  he  advanced  his  own 
interests  and  enfeebled  the  young  Arcadius  by 
surrounding  him  with  debasing  pleasures.  At  last 
came  the  day  when  Arcadius  was  to  marry  the 
daughter  of  his  prime  minister,  Rufinus.  The  pro- 
cession set  out  in  splendor  from  the  palace  to  the 
house  of  the  bride.  But  it  passed  the  house  with- 
out stopping;  it  proceeded  to  the  residence  of 
Bauto  the  Frank,  and  there  Arcadius  was  married 
to  his  daughter,  Eudoxia!  This  was  the  work 
of  Eutropius,  who  thereupon  succeeded  Rufinus, 
having  first  assisted  in  his  murder,  and  became 
minister  of  state. 

It  is  one  of  the  most  singular  careers  in  history. 
The  palace  gates  would  open  and  out  would  ride 
a  resplendent  procession  of  foot-soldiers  in  white 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

uniforms,  of  cavalry  in  cloth  of  gold,  with  gilded 
lances  and  golden  shields,  and  then,  drawn  by 
white  mules,  the  imperial  carriage,  with  gilded 
sides  shining  like  the  sun,  and  in  the  carriage 
by  the  side  of  the  emperor,  the  old  ex-slave  Eu- 
tropius. 

Now  the  archbishopric  of  Constantinople  was 
vacant,  the  most  important  see  in  Christendom, 
next  to  Rome,  and,  in  the  mind  of  the  East,  ex- 
ceeding Rome.  There  was  a  long  array  of  candi- 
dates. In  the  midst  of  the  discussion  Eutropius 
remembered  Chrysostom,  whom  he  had  heard 
preach.  He  sent  secretly  to  Antioch.  By  false- 
hood his  messengers  got  Chrysostom  into  a  car- 
riage, swift  horses  were  ready,  and  against  his 
will,  not  even  asking  what  his  will  was,  under 
guard  like  a  criminal  condemned  to  execution,  the 
preacher  was  carried  to  Constantinople.  Theo- 
philus,  the  Pope  of  Alexandria,  was  commanded 
to  consecrate  him. 

But  Theophilus  was  reluctant,  having  a  candi- 
date of  his  own,  who,  he  hoped,  would  assist  him 
in  asserting  the  superiority  of  the  see  of  Alexan- 
dria over  the  see  of  Constantinople.  This  reluc- 
tance Eutropius  was  able  to  overcome.  For  in  the 
late  war  between  Theodosius  and  Maximin,  when 
the  issue  of  the  combat  was  uncertain,  and  nobody 
could  tell  which  of  the  two  would  win  the  imperial 

224 


CHRYSOSTOM 

throne,  Theophilus  had  sent  two  letters  to  the  field 
of  battle,  one  congratulating  Theodosius,  the 
other  congratulating  Maximin,  upon  his  victory. 
One  was  to  be  delivered  to  the  conqueror,  the 
other  was  to  be  destroyed.  But  the  other  letter 
had  not  been  destroyed;  it  was  in  the  possession  of 
Eutropius.  So  persuasive  was  the  argument  which 
Eutropius  based  upon  this  unfortunate  epistle, 
that  Theophilus  agreed  to  consecrate  Chrysos- 
tom.  And  this  he  did,  but  with  a  hatred  in 
his  heart  which  entered  tragically  into  the  years 
which  followed. 

Thus  Chrysostom  became  the  bishop  of  Con- 
stantinople, —  the  archbishop,  the  patriarch,  the 
pope,  of  the  imperial  capital  of  the  East.  The 
whole  occupation  of  his  life  was  changed.  He  still 
preached,  but  not,  as  in  Antioch,  day  after  day; 
sometimes  as  rarely  as  only  once  in  a  month.  He 
was  mainly  engaged  in  the  unaccustomed  duties 
of  administration.  And  his  preaching,  which  in 
Antioch  had  been  addressed  to  people  who  had 
known  him  from  his  youth,  and  which  had  been 
reinforced  by  the  common  knowledge  of  his  holy 
life,  was  now  the  voice  not  only  of  a  stranger  but 
of  a  suspected  stranger,  thrust  violently  into  his 
position  by  old  Eutropius  whom  everybody  feared 
and  hated.  He  was  Eutropius's  bishop. 

The  first  thing  which  Chrysostom  did  was  to 
225 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

take  all  the  fine  furniture  which  Nectarius,  his 
elegant  predecessor,  had  gathered  in  the  episcopal 
palace,  and  have  it  sold  at  auction,  giving  the 
money  to  a  hospital.  He  dismissed  the  retinue  of 
servants.  The  pleasant  hospitality  of  the  bishop's 
residence  he  discontinued;  he  stopped  the  dinner 
parties  which  had  made  Nectarius  so  popular.  He 
lived  alone  and  dined  alone,  in  the  dismantled 
rooms.  One  bishop  who  visited  him  was  made 
a  formidable  enemy  by  the  hard  bed  and  the 
homely  breakfast,  which  he  regarded  as  a  personal 
insult. 

This  ideal  of  monastic  simplicity,  Chrysostom 
demanded  of  his  clergy.  He  interfered  with  their 
domestic  arrangements,  which  were  in  some  in- 
stances a  cause  of  scandal.  He  tried  to  dissuade 
rich  parishioners  from  giving  presents  to  the  rich 
clergy,  urging  them  to  remember  the  poor.  Some 
priests  he  suspended,  some  he  thrust  out  of  their 
positions;  almost  all  of  them  he  reprimanded  for 
their  comfortable  habits  and  their  neglect  of  duty. 
Thus  they  were  set  against  him.  At  the  same 
time  he  offended  the  bishops.  In  the  course  of  a 
single  visitation  he  deposed  thirteen  of  them.  He 
found  Constantinople  infested  with  idle  monks, 
living  on  the  charity  of  industrious  citizens;  he 
sent  them  back  to  their  cells.  Thus  he  daily  in- 
creased the  number  of  his  enemies. 


CHRYSOSTOM 

Wherever  Chrysostom  went,  he  measured  the 
church  by  the  standard  of  his  own  consecrated 
life,  and  punished  declension  from  that  high  ideal. 
The  church  was  secularized:  anybody  could  see 
that.  The  conversion  of  Constantine  had  given 
the  Christian  religion  a  most  unfortunate  popu- 
larity, and  many  were  they  who  had  entered  the 
church  because  it  was  in  favor  with  the  court;  and 
being  in  the  church,  even  in  the  holy  offices  of 
presbyter  and  bishop,  they  were  behaving  more 
like  courtiers  than  like  Christians.  It  was  a  lax, 
indifferent,  pleasure  -  loving  church,  in  which 
conscience  afforded  only  a  weak  defence  against 
temptation.  And  over  the  church,  ruling  it  in  the 
name  of  Christ,  and  holding  himself  responsible 
for  it,  was  a  man  who  had  spent  half  of  his  mature 
life  as  a  monk,  and  the  other  half  as  a  preacher 
of  austere  morals. 

To  the  clerical  enmity  which  such  a  situation 
made  inevitable,  he  had  the  misfortune  to  add 
the  hostility  of  the  ladies  of  Constantinople.  The 
preacher  is  safe  who  denounces  in  large,  general 
terms  the  sins  of  avarice  and  luxury,  but  he  comes 
into  immediate  peril  when  he  proceeds  to  particu- 
lars. Chrysostom  proceeded  to  particulars.  With 
the  unwisdom  of  one  who  lives  apart  from  com- 
mon life,  he  confused  small  things  with  great.  He 
prejudiced  his  cause,  and  needlessly  made  per- 

227 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

sonal  enemies  in  his  congregation,  by  criticising 
in  his  sermons  the  fashions  of  their  dress.  He  ob- 
jected to  the  ladies'  ear-rings,  and  to  their  white 
veils  with  black  filets.  He  disliked  their  shoes  of 
velvet  laced  with  silk,  which  he  said  they  might 
better  wear  upon  their  heads.  He  pointed  at  them 
with  his  finger:  "You  women  there  in  the  silk 
dresses  are  laughing."  He  said  plainly  that  there 
were  old  women  in  the  congregation  who  were 
dressing  like  young  girls.  He  declared  that  he 
would  repel  from  the  Holy  Communion  any  wo- 
man who  came  with  painted  cheeks. 

The  familiar  Prayer  of  St.  Chrysostom  is  so 
named  because  it  was  taken  over  into  the  English 
service  out  of  the  Greek  Liturgy  of  St.  Chrysos- 
tom. This  Liturgy,  according  to  which  the  Holy 
Communion  is  administered  to  this  day  in  the 
Orthodox  Eastern  Church,  is  a  revision  of  an 
earlier  form  called  the  Liturgy  of  St.  Basil,  as  that 
in  turn  was  recast  from  the  traditional  Liturgy  of 
St.  James.  Whether  Chrysostom  contributed  to 
this  revision,  or  whether  the  name  was  given  to  it 
by  reason  of  his  fame,  has  not  been  determined. 

The  only  record  of  a  connection  of  Chrysostom 
with  the  worship  of  the  church  is  made  by  the 
ecclesiastical  historian  Socrates  (book  vi,  chap. 
8).  He  says  that  the  Arians  began  to  reassert 
themselves  in  Constantinople  during  the  episco- 

228 


CHRYSOSTOM 

pate  of  Chrysostom,  and  that  being  forbidden 
to  have  churches  within  the  city  walls  they  had 
them  just  outside,  and  attracted  congregations  to 
them  by  processional  singing.  They  met  in  the 
public  squares  and  sang  hymns  which  Socrates 
calls  "responsive  compositions,"  perhaps  with  a 
chorus  after  each  verse,  and  thus  gathering  a 
crowd,  they  proceeded  to  their  churches.  In  op- 
position to  these  heretical  meetings  Chrysostom 
organized  the  orthodox  choirs,  which,  by  the 
generosity  of  Eudoxia,  he  provided  with  silver 
crosses  on  which  they  bore  wax  candles.  This 
competition  proved  so  effective  that  one  evening 
the  singing  heretics  fell  upon  the  singing  ortho- 
dox, and  there  was  a  fight  in  the  street,  with  silver 
crosses  converted  into  clubs,  and  much  injurious 
throwing  of  stones.  This  occasioned  the  stopping 
of  all  the  processional  invitations  to  the  services. 

The  dramatic  interest  of  the  sermons  which 
Chrysostom  preached  in  Antioch  on  the  statues 
was  equalled  in  Constantinople  by  his  sermons 
on  Eutropius. 

Eutropius  was  now  the  acting  emperor,  con- 
trolling the  weak  Arcadius,  and  doing  as  he 
pleased.  He  had  cast  down,  and  exiled  or  put  to 
death  great  generals  andoflficersof  state.  Out  of  the 
imperial  kitchen  he  had  taken  a  servant,  a  friend 
of  his  in  the  days  of  his  poverty,  and  had  made 
,^29 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

him  a  person  of  exalted  station.  Statues  were 
erected  to  Eutropius  in  all  the  greater  cities,  while 
men  were  still  living  who  had  bought  and  sold 
and  beaten  him.  Naturally,  he  was  hated.  He 
had  many  enemies  among  the  nobility  into  whose 
aristocratic  ranks  he  had  been  so  singularly 
thrust,  and  toward  whom  he  behaved  with  unfail- 
ing arrogance.  He  had  incurred  the  displeasure  of 
the  people  by  his  failure  to  keep  peace  with  the 
Goths,  and  by  the  open  avarice  of  his  appoint- 
ments. They  said  that  he  had  a  price-list  of  gov- 
ernorships :  so  much  to  be  made  governor  of  Pon- 
tus,  so  much  to  be  made  governor  of  Galatia. 
His  one  friend  was  the  queen,  whose  marriage 
he  had  so  dramatically  managed. 

But  Eutropius  quarrelled  with  the  queen.  One 
day  when  she  declined  some  demand  of  his,  "Re- 
member," he  said,  "that  he  who  placed  you  where 
you  are  is  able  to  remove  you."  The  young  queen 
took  her  little  children,  one  of  them  two  years  old 
and  the  other  a  baby,  and  ran  crying  to  her  hus- 
band. And  Arcadius,  by  a  rare  exercise  of  his  will, 
asserted  himself.  He  discharged  Eutropius.  In 
one  moment,  in  the  speaking  of  a  single  sentence, 
he  toppled  over  his  whole  pile  of  power,  and 
turned  him  out  of  the  palace.  Out  he  went,  poor 
as  when  he  came  in,  and  without  a  friend.  He 
fled  to  the  cathedral,  pursued  by  a  mob  of  sol- 

^0 


CHRYSOSTOM 

diers  and  citizens.  He  took  refuge  under  the  altar. 
Chrysostom  stood  at  the  entrance  to  the  sanctu- 
ary and  refused  them  entrance. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  when  the  time 
came  for  Chrysostom's  sermon,  and  he  gave  out 
his  text,  "Vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity!"  he 
had  the  curtain  drawn  aside  which  hid  the  altar 
from  the  people,  and  there  clinging  to  the  sacred 
table  was  the  old,  wrinkled,  gray-haired  Eutro- 
pius.  "Where  now,"  cried  the  preacher,  "are  the 
brilliant  surroundings  of  thy  consulship?  Where 
are  the  gleaming  torches  .^^  Where  is  the  applause 
which  greeted  thee  in  the  city,  where  the  accla- 
mation in  the  hippodrome?  They  are  gone  —  all 
gone.  A  wind  has  blown  upon  the  tree,  shattering 
down  all  its  leaves.  Where  now  are  your  feigned 
friends?  Where  are  your  drinking  parties  and 
your  suppers?  Where  is  the  wine  that  used  to  be 
poured  forth  all  day  long,  and  the  manifold  dain- 
ties invented  by  your  cooks?  They  were  a  smoke 
which  has  dispersed,  bubbles  which  have  burst, 
cobwebs  which  have  been  rent  in  pieces.  *  Vanity 
of  vanities,  all  is  vanity.'"  "Brethren,"  added 
the  preacher,  "  I  have  told  you  that,  a  thousand 
times:  I  have  declared  to  you  that  wealth  and 
the  pleasures  of  this  life  are  fleeting  things.  Look 
now,  and  see  with  your  own  eyes,  how  what  I 
said  is  true." 

£31 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH  ' 

The  life  of  Eutropius  was  saved  for  the  moment 
by  the  intercession  of  Chrysostom,  but  he  was 
finally  beheaded. 

The  sermons  on  Eutropius  mark  the  culmina- 
tion of  the  power  of  Chrysostom  in  Constanti- 
nople. After  these  discourses,  in  which  he  twice 
"improved  the  occasion"  of  the  downfall  of  the 
favorite,  little  remains  but  disappointment,  and 
hostility,  and  final  failure.  His  clerical  enemies 
found  a  leader  in  Theophilus  of  Alexandria;  his 
social  enemies  were  encouraged  by  the  empress 
Eudoxia. 

Theophilus  took  as  a  pretext  for  an  attack  upon 
Chrysostom  the  case  of  the  Four  Tall  Brothers. 
These  were  monks  of  Egypt  who  had  come  into 
collision  with  Theophilus  over  the  orthodoxy  of 
Origen.  Theophilus  held  Origen  to  be  a  heretic, 
and  forbade  the  reading  of  his  writings.  This 
edict  was  disobeyed  by  independent  persons 
whose  liking  for  Origen  was  emphasized  by  the 
bishop's  peremptory  displeasure.  Among  these 
disobedient  persons  were  the  Four  Tall  Brothers, 
who  finding  themselves  in  peril  fled  to  Constan- 
tinople to  plead  for  the  protection  of  the  court. 

Their  hospitable  reception  by  Chrysostom 
gave  Theophilus  his  opportunity.  He  appeared 
in  Constantinople  with  a  stout-armed  retinue  of 
Egyptian  clergy,  allied  himself  with  the  multitude 

232 


CHRYSOSTOM 

of  clerical  malcontents  in  the  city,  and  at  a  coun- 
try place  belonging  to  the  emperor,  and  called 
The  Oak,  situated  near  by  in  Chalcedon,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  summon  a  synod.  This  Synod  of  the 
Oak,  under  the  presidency  of  Theophilus,  called 
Chrysostom  to  present  himself  for  trial,  and, 
when  he  denied  the  jurisdiction  of  the  assembly 
and  refused  to  plead,  deposed  him. 

It  was.  a  situation  which  a  man  of  the  world 
would  have  met  by  beating  the  intruders  over  the 
head  with  their  own  weapons.  Cyprian,  for  ex- 
ample, or  Ambrose,  or  any  other  strong  bishop 
who  had  prepared  himself  for  the  ministry  by 
serving  an  apprenticeship  as  a  lawyer  or  a  states- 
man, would  have  confronted  Theophilus  and  his 
clerical  ruffians  at  the  docks  when  they  landed, 
and  would  have  driven  them  back  into  their 
boats.  And  if  the  emperor  or  the  empress,  with 
the  whole  court  in  agreement,  had  interposed 
in  their  behalf,  he  would  have  brought  to  his 
defence  and  reinforcement  an  excommunication 
which  they  would  have  dreaded  like  the  onslaught 
of  a  legion  of  angels. 

But  Chrysostom  was  a  gentle  spirit,  bold  in 
the  pulpit,  but  unfitted  by  his  monastic  training 
to  deal  with  the  rough  world.  He  knew  how  to 
speak,  but  his  experience  had  never  taught  him 
how  to  act.  The  situation  was  complicated  by  the 

233 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

fact  that  Theophilus  had  got  permission  from  the 
emperor  to  summon  the  assembly.  Disobedience 
to  its  decision  —  so  they  told  Chrysostom  — 
was  nothing  less  than  treason.  He  bowed,  there- 
fore, to  what  seemed  inevitable  and  submitted  to 
an  imperial  decree  of  banishment.  Theophilus 
"ejected  me,"  says  Chrysostom,  "from  the  city 
and  the  church,  when  the  evening  was  far  ad- 
vanced. Being  drawn  by  the  public  informer 
through  the  midst  of  the  city,  and  dragged  along 
by  force,  I  was  taken  down  to  the  sea,  and  thrust 
on  board  a  ship." 

The  city  was  profoundly  stirred.  Chrysostom 
had  been  the  friend  of  the  poor;  he  had  built 
hospitals;  he  had  himself  lived  in  poverty  that 
he  might  thereby  be  more  helpful  to  his  people; 
he  had  maintained  the  cause  of  Christian  right- 
eousness. Everybody,  whether  friend  or  enemy, 
knew  the  self-sacrificing,  devoted,  humble-minded 
goodness  of  the  bishop.  Everybody  knew  also 
that  out  of  envy,  and  for  purposes  of  personal 
ambition,  without  a  shadow  of  justice  and  in 
defiance  of  religion,  Theophilus  had  come  from 
Alexandria  to  ruin  him.  The  amazement  of  the 
people  deepened  into  indignation.  It  was  unsafe 
for  any  Egyptian  to  be  seen  in  the  streets.  A 
mob  besieged  the  palace  of  the  emperor.  The 
next  night  there  was  an  earthquake.  Especially 

^34 


CHRYSOSTOM 

in  the  palace  the  walls  swayed,  and  the  roof 
seemed  about  to  fall.  Eudoxia  was  thoroughly 
frightened.  She  sent  for  Chrysostom  with  tears 
and  apologies.  The  people  met  him  as  if  he  had 
been  a  commander  returning  from  the  conquest 
of  a  nation;  a  triumphal  procession  bore  him  to 
the  cathedral  and  seated  him  upon  his  throne. 
At  midnight  Theophilus,  fearing  for  his  life,  took 
his  company  with  him  and  got  on  board  a  boat, 
and  so  escaped. 

Then  two  months  passed.  The  earth  resumed 
its  accustomed  steadiness,  the  panic  of  fright  was 
forgotten  in  the  palace  and  the  old  hostility  re- 
turned. The  ambition  of  Theophilus  was  suc- 
ceeded by  the  opposition  of  Eudoxia. 

As  the  natural  leader  of  the  society  against 
which  Chrysostom  had  preached,  the  empress 
had  felt  herself  personally  aggrieved.  She  wore 
the  fine  clothes  to  which  the  bishop  had  objected, 
and  lived  the  life  of  luxury  which  he  had  declared 
to  be  contrary  to  right  religion.  One  day,  she  had 
a  silver  statue  of  herself  set  on  a  pillar  of  por- 
phyry in  the  midst  of  the  square  beside  which 
stood  the  Church  of  Santa  Sophia.  The  event  was 
celebrated  on  a  Sunday,  and  at  a  time  when  there 
was  service  in  the  church.  The  din  of  the  affair 
was  deafening.  Against  the  noise  of  the  shouting 
and  the  blare  of  the  trumpets  the  choir  found  it 

235 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

impossible  to  sing.  Chrysostom  found  it  impos- 
sible to  preach.  Indeed,  there  was  little  occasion 
for  a  sermon,  most  of  the  congregation  being  out- 
side in  the  crowd. 

Chrysostom  discussed  the  matter  with  his 
usual  plainness  of  speech.  And  this  plainness  was 
by  no  means  modified  in  the  reports  which  were 
carried  to  the  empress.  They  told  her  that  he 
compared  her  not  only  with  Jezebel,  but  with 
Herodias.  They  said  that  he  began  a  sermon  with 
the  words,  "Again  is  Herodias  furious;  again 
Herodias  dances;  again  does  she  demand  the 
head  of  John."  Chrysostom  declared  that  he 
never  said  it;  it  is  plain  that  no  attentive  reader 
of  the  Bible  would  speak  of  the  dancing  of  Hero- 
dias. But  any  pretext  was  enough. 

Another  council  was  assembled,  ready  to  do  the 
will  of  Theophilus,  and  protected  by  a  force  of 
barbarians  imported  for  the  purpose.  This  coun- 
cil confirmed  the  previous  sentence,  and  declared 
Chrysostom  deposed  because  after  that  condem- 
nation he  had  resumed  his  duties  without  per- 
mission. On  Easter  Even,  soldiers  broke  into  the 
churches,  and  drove  out  the  clergy  and  the  con- 
gregation, and  dispersed  those  who  had  come  in 
white  robes  to  be  baptized.  The  baptismal  pools 
were  made  red  with  blood.  On  the  day  of  the 
great  festival  the  churches  of  Constantinople 

236 


CHRYSOSTOM 

stood  empty,  the  faithful  having  fled  to  the  fields. 
"There  were  shrieks  and  lamentations,"  says 
Chrysostom,  "and  torrents  of  tears  were  shed 
everywhere  in  the  marketplaces,  in  the  houses,  in 
the  deserts;  all  places  were  in  a  state  of  tumult 
and  confusion  as  if  the  city  had  been  taken  by  an 
enemy."  Hostile  bishops  led  the  attack,  preceded 
by  drill-sergeants,  says  Chrysostom,  instead  of 
deacons. 

IV 

The  decree  of  banishment  was  now  executed 
without  repentance.  Chrysostom  was  hurried  into 
a  boat  on  the  Bosphorus  and  carried  into  exile. 
As  they  set  sail,  and  the  bishop  looked  back  upon 
the  city  to  which  he  had  been  brought  so  dra- 
matically and  from  which  he  was  being  thrust  so 
violently,  behold,  smoke  and  flame  began  to  rise 
from  the  roof  of  the  cathedral,  Santa  Sophia, 
even  as  they  watched,  fell  into  a  heap  of  blazing 
ruins.  The  wreck  of  the  fallen  walls  was  piled  high 
over  the  silver  statue  of  Eudoxia. 

In  the  parallelogram  of  Asia  Minor,  between 
the  Black  Sea  and  the  Mediterranean,  Constan- 
tinople is  just  outside  the  northwest  corner. 
Chrysostom  was  banished  to  Cucusus  in  the 
southeast  corner.  The  long  journey  involved 
not  only  the  ordinary  difficulties  of  travel  in 

237 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

a  mountainous  country,  but  also  the  peril  of 
Isaurian  brigands  who  were  then  infesting  the 
roads.  To  the  distress  of  mind  caused  by  daily 
reports  of  the  persecution  of  the  faithful  in 
Constantinople  was  added  pain  of  body;  and 
the  common  dangers  of  the  journey  were  accom- 
panied and  embittered  by  the  hatred  of  ecclesi- 
astical enemies.  Chrysostom  wrote  to  Olympias, 
a  deaconness,  describing  his  experiences  at  Cses- 
area.  He  says  that  he  arrived  there  late  one 
evening,  in  an  exhausted  condition,  in  the  height 
of  a  burning  fever,  more  dead  than  alive.  The 
next  day  the  Isaurians  besieged  the  city.  At  the 
same  time  a  great  rabble  of  monks,  perhaps 
driven  from  their  cells  by  the  marauders,  attacked 
the  house  in  which  Chrysostom  was  lodged,  and 
tried  to  set  fire  to  it.  They  said  openly  that  they 
had  the  approval  of  the  bishop  of  Caesarea.  At 
midnight,  in  the  blackness  of  darkness,  for  there 
was  no  moon,  a  cry  was  made  that  the  Isaurians 
were  coming.  Chrysostom  was  forced  from  his 
sick-bed.  It  was  unsafe  to  light  a  torch  for  fear 
of  the  barbarians.  The  mule  on  which  he  rode 
stumbled  and  threw  him.  "Imagine  my  suf- 
ferings," he  writes,  "encompassed  as  I  was  by 
such  calamities,  oppressed  by  the  fever,  ignorant 
of  the  plans  which  had  been  made,  in  terror  of 
the  barbarians,  and  trembling  with  the  expec- 

238 


CHRYSOSTOM 

tation  of  falling  into  their  hands."  Nevertheless, 
he  went  forward,  and  after  a  month  reached 
Cucusus. 

There  he  spent  three  years.  He  wrote  letters  to 
influential  bishops,  —  at  Aquileia,  at  Milan,  at 
Rome,  —  calling  their  attention  to  the  injustice 
with  which  he  had  been  treated.  "Not  even  in 
heathen  courts,"  he  wrote,  "would  such  auda- 
cious deeds  have  been  committed,  or  rather  not 
even  in  a  barbarian  court:  neither  Scythians 
nor  Sarmatians  would  ever  have  judged  a  cause 
in  this  fashion,  deciding  it  after  hearing  one  side 
only,  in  the  absence  of  the  accused,  who  only  dep- 
recated enmity,  not  a  trial  of  his  case,  who  was 
ready  to  call  any  number  of  witnesses,  asserting 
himself  to  be  innocent  and  able  to  clear  himself 
of  the  charges  in  the  face  of  the  world." 

But  neither  Pope  Innocent  nor  anybody  else 
could  help  him.  He  was  under  condemnation  for 
the  offence  of  attacking  the  corruption  of  the 
church  and  of  society.  His  plain  preaching  had 
got  him  the  hatred  of  the  imperial  court.  And 
these  combined  forces  were  too  strong  for  him. 
When  friends  began  to  gather  about  him  from 
Antioch,  so  that  it  was  said,  "All  Antioch  is  at 
Cucusus,"  the  authorities  at  Constantinople  de- 
termined to  send  him  to  a  remoter  exile.  He  was 
to  be  hurried  north  to  Pityus  on  the  Black  Sea. 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

But  in  Pontus,  near  Comana,  he  became  so  ill 
that  further  progress  was  impossible.  He  was 
taken  to  the  wayside  shrine  of  Basilicus,  a  bishop 
who  had  suffered  martyrdom.  There  he  died, 
being  in  his  sixtieth  year.  It  was  said  that  his 
last  words  were,  "Glory  be  to  God  for  all  things!" 
Thus  he  died,  and  the  glory  of  the  Eastern 
Church  died  with  him.  Athanasius,  Basil,  Greg- 
ory, Chrysostom  had  no  successors.  Not  an- 
other name  of  eminence  appears  in  the  eccle- 
siastical annals  of  the  Eastern  Empire.  In  the 
contest  for  the  mastery  of  human  life,  the  court 
had  conquered;  the  church  was  brought  into 
subjection. 


CHAPTER  IX 

monasticism  in  the  west 
martin:  cassian:  jerome 


THE  statement  that  "East  is  East  and  West 
is  West,  and  never  the  twain  shall  meet," 
is  based  on  racial  differences.  Some  of  these  are 
superficial,  and  find  expression  in  the  extraor- 
dinary contrasts  between  the  Oriental  and  the 
Occidental  ways  of  doing  things.  But  others  are 
temperamental.  The  East  is  the  land  of  medi- 
tation, where  men  think  for  the  joy  of  thinking, 
and  do  not  require  that  their  thoughts  shall  tend 
toward  any  concrete  conclusion.  The  West  is  the 
land  of  action. 

The  meditative  man  desires  to  withdraw  from 
the  world.  He  seeks  a  place  of  quiet  where  he  may 
escape  the  manifold  distractions  of  common  life; 
he  subordinates  the  body  to  the  spirit;  he  dreams 
of  an  ideal  state  for  which  this  present  life  is 
a  preparation  or  probation.  He  believes  in  a 
"world-renouncing  ethic,"  whose  formula  is  "We 
live  to  die." 

The  active  man  desires  to  use  and  control  the 
world.     His  happiness  is  to  immerse  himself  in 

241 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

affairs.  He  is  forever  busy  with  investigation,  and 
with  the  problem  of  applying  the  results  of  in- 
vestigation to  the  conditions  of  life.  He  takes  the 
planet  as  it  stands,  and  is  glad  that  he  is  a  citizen 
of  it;  he  would  make  the  most  of  all  his  oppor- 
tunities. He  believes  in  a  "  world-aflfirming  ethic," 
whose  formula  is  "We  live  to  live." 

It  is  easy  to  exaggerate  the  contrast  between 
the  mind  of  the  East  and  the  mind  of  the  West. 
Human  nature  laughs  at  generalizations.  Two 
great  religions  of  the  East  have  contradicted  the 
doctrine  that  we  live  to  die.  Confucius  said  noth- 
ing about  the  gods,  Moses  said  nothing  about  the 
life  to  come.  These  religions,  in  the  heart  of  the 
East,  concerned  themselves  with  the  present  life. 
The  teachings  of  Confucius  were  as  practical  as 
the  teachings  of  Franklin.  The  historians,  the 
poets  and  the  prophets  of  Judaism  agreed  that  the 
rewards  and  punishments  of  God  are  to  be  looked 
for  in  this  world,  and  appear  in  health  and  in  sick- 
ness, in  prosperity  and  in  adversity. 

Indeed,  the  East  and  the  West  have  twice  met 
already.  They  met  in  Greek  philosophy,  where 
the  Stoics  regarded  the  world  from  the  point  of 
view  which  we  consider  characteristically  Eastern, 
and  their  neighbors  the  Epicureans  regarded  life 
from  the  point  of  view  which  seems  to  us  dis- 
tinctively Western.  They  met  also  in  the  Chris- 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

tian  religion,  whose  essential  adjectives  are  the 
words  "spiritual"  and  "social."  Jesus  taught  a 
love  of  God  which  includes  all  that  is  Oriental  in 
its  renunciation  of  the  world,  and  a  love  of  man 
which  in  its  aflfirmation  of  the  world  includes  all 
that  is  Occidental. 

The  contrast,  however,  between  the  East  and 
the  West  is  real  and  abiding.  It  is  true  that  the 
difference  between  the  monastic  ideal  of  Basil 
and  the  monastic  ideal  of  Benedict  is  surprisingly 
slight.  Basil  is  as  practical  as  Benedict,  and 
makes  quite  as  much  of  the  life  of  action :  he  sets 
his  monks  to  till  the  ground  and  to  apply  them- 
selves to  reading  and  writing.  The  fact  remains, 
however,  that  Eastern  monasticism  and  West- 
ern monasticism  took  different  roads,  and  have 
had  a  very  different  history;  largely  because  the 
Eastern  monks  were  Orientals  and  the  Western 
monks  were  Occidentals.  The  racial  differences 
appeared. 

Eastern  monasticism  renounced  the  world:  at 
first  by  way  of  protest,  then  by  way  of  frank  de- 
spair. At  first  the  Eastern  monks  came  back  oc- 
casionally to  express  their  opinion  of  the  world. 
They  swarmed  out  of  the  deserts  into  the  streets 
of  the  cities  in  which  the  bishops  were  sitting 
in  council,  and  denounced  heretics  and  sinners. 
Sometimes  they  were  in  the  right;  more  often,  in 

243 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  wrong.  Their  monastic  seclusion  had  made 
them  ignorant  fanatics.  But  gradually  they 
ceased  to  take  even  an  occasional  part  in  the 
affairs  of  the  world.  They  turned  their  backs 
upon  it  in  despair.  They  shut  themselves  up 
behind  their  high  stone  walls  and  let  the  world 
go  by.  In  the  monotony  of  their  regulated  life 
there  was  no  place  for  individual  expression. 
Their  annals  no  longer  showed  great  names.  They 
were  connected  with  the  church  only  by  the  fact 
that  the  bishops  were  selected  from  their  brother- 
hood. But  the  bishops  came  from  the  monasteries 
unacquainted  with  the  life  of  the  lay  world,  and 
unfitted  to  take  any  influential  part  in  it.  Far 
from  continuing  the  original  protest,  they  were 
submissive  servants  of  the  state. 

In  Western  monasticism,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  monks  developed  the  institution  by  the  con- 
tinual assertion  of  individuality.  Their  history 
is  filled  with  the  names  of  those  who  were  lead- 
ers of  their  generation.  And  these  leaders,  for 
the  most  part,  showed  their  leadership  by  their 
defiance  of  uniformity.  The  monks  contended 
with  the  bishops,  perpetuating  the  initial  protest 
against  the  conventionality  and  secularity  of  the 
church.  They  contended  among  themselves,  and 
thereby  made  their  history  a  series  of  notable  re- 
forms, each  of  which  made  the  monastic  ideal 

1244 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

higher  and  wider  than  before.  And  they  controlled 
the  world.  They  had  such  part  in  it  that  no  his- 
tory of  Europe  can  be  adequately  written  with- 
out including  them. 

The  three  outstanding  names  of  the  monastic 
movement  in  the  West  are  St.  Martin,  St.  John 
Cassian,^  and  St.  Jerome.  Each  promoted  the 
new  life  in  his  own  way:  Martin  by  his  example, 
Cassian  by  teaching  the  West  the  methods  of  the 
East,  Jerome  by  a  propaganda  which  amazed 
and  startled  the  society  of  Rome. 

II 

The  disciple  and  biographer  of  St,  Martin, 
Sulpicius  Severus,  begins  his  book  with  a  preface 
addressed  to  his  friend  Desiderius  to  whom  he  en- 
trusts it.  I  had  determined,  he  says,  to  keep  this 
little  treatise  private.  I  am  sending  it  to  you  be- 
cause you  have  asked  me  for  it  so  many  times, 
but  on  the  understanding  that  you  will  not  show 
it  to  anybody  else:  remember,  you  promised  me 
that.  At  the  same  time,  I  have  my  fears  that  in 
spite  of  my  entreaty  and  your  promise  you  will 
nevertheless  publish  it.  If  you  do,  please  ask  the 
readers  to  pay  more  attention  to  the  facts  which 
are  here  related  than  to  the  imperfect  language 
in  which  they  are  set  forth;  remind  them  that  the 

1  Canonized  in  the  Eastern  Church,  not  in  the  Western. 
^5 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

kingdom  of  God  consists  not  of  eloquence,  but  of 
faith,  and  that  the  gospel  was  preached  not  by 
orators,  but  by  fishermen.  Or,  better  still,  when 
you  publish  the  book,  erase  my  name  from  the 
title-page,  that  the  book  may  proclaim  its  sub- 
ject-matter, while  it  tells  nothing  of  the  author. 

Thus  we  are  made  acquainted  with  the  pleas- 
ant and  modest  person  whose  account  of  St. 
Martin  is  the  only  considerable  source  of  infor- 
mation concerning  him. 

Martin  was  the  son  of  pagan  parents,  in  Pan- 
nonia,  where  his  father  was  a  military  tribune. 
In  his  early  childhood  he  was  attracted  toward 
the  Christian  Church,  —  so  much  so  that  when  he 
was  but  twelve  years  of  age,  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  be  a  hermit.  This  intention  his  father  hin- 
dered, and  three  years  later,  upon  the  occasion  of 
an  edict  which  required  that  the  sons  of  veterans 
should  be  enrolled  for  military  service,  he  sent 
him,  much  against  young  Martin's  will,  into  the 
army.  There  Martin  tried  to  follow  his  vocation 
by  changing  places  with  his  servant,  whose  boots 
he  insisted  upon  cleaning.  It  was  evident  to  all 
his  associates  that  the  warfare  in  which  this  sol- 
dier was  concerned  was  directed  not  against  the 
Goths,  but  against  the  devil.  To  this  statement 
Sulpicius  adds  that  all  his  companions  marvel- 
lously loved  him. 

S46 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

Then  one  day  in  the  midst  of  a  fierce  winter, 
when  there  was  much  suffering  among  the  poor, 
Martin  met  at  the  gate  of  Amiens  a  shivering 
beggar.  Thereupon  he  took  off  his  military  cloak, 
cut  it  into  two  pieces  with  his  sword,  and  put 
one  half  upon  the  beggar's  back.  That  night  in 
a  dream  Christ  appeared  to  Martin  wearing  the 
half  of  the  severed  cloak  and  saying  to  a  multi- 
tude of  angels,  "Martin,  who  is  still  but  a  cate- 
chumen, clothed  me  with  this  robe."  In  con- 
sequence of  this  dream  Martin  was  baptized, 
being  then  about  twenty  years  of  age. 

Presently,  when  the  commander  of  the  army 
reviewed  the  troops  on  the  eve  of  a  battle  with 
the  barbarians,  Martin  took  the  opportunity  to 
ask  that  he  might  be  relieved  of  his  military  duties 
in  order  to  devote  himself  to  the  religious  life. 
"I  am  the  soldier  of  Christ,"  he  said,  "it  is  not 
lawful  for  me  to  fight."  When  the  commander, 
naturally  enough,  accused  him  of  cowardice,  he 
offered  to  go  into  the  battle  on  the  morrow,  wholly 
unarmed  and  without  the  protection  of  shield  or 
helmet,  at  the  head  of  the  army,  if  after  that  he 
might  be  dismissed.  That  night  the  barbarians 
decided  that  the  odds  were  too  much  against 
them,  and  the  next  day  they  surrendered.  And 
Martin  was  set  free. 

Entering  thus  upon  a  life  devoted  to  religion, 
^7 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH] 

Martin  found  that  his  new  career  offered  him 
quite  as  many  opportunities  for  adventure  as  the 
old.  Once,  in  the  Alps,  he  was  attacked  by  rob- 
bers, and  was  in  peril  of  his  life.  One  of  the  rob- 
bers had  his  axe  uplifted  to  strike  Martin,  when 
another  stopped  him.  This  kindly  brigand  Mar- 
tin converted.  "Who  are  you? "  said  the  brigand. 
"I  am  a  Christian,"  said  Martin.  —  "Are  you  not 
afraid?"  —  "I  have  never  been  more  sure  of  my 
safety  in  my  life.  But  I  am  afraid  for  you:  you 
are  in  danger  of  everlasting  damnation."  Sul- 
picius  had  the  story  from  a  hermit,  whom  he 
found  to  be  the  converted  robber  himself. 

Once  as  he  prayed,  the  place  where  Martin  was 
kneeling  was  filled  with  a  glory  of  purple  light, 
and  there  appeared  one  crowned  with  gold  and 
clad  in  a  royal  robe.  And  the  vision  said,  "Mar- 
tin, I  am  the  Lord  Christ,  at  last  descended  out 
of  heaven  to  earth,  and  manifested  first  of  all  to 
you."  And  Martin,  instructed  by  long  experi- 
ence, at  first  kept  silence,  till  the  vision  said 
again,  "Martin,  do  you  not  believe?"  To  which 
the  saint  replied,  "The  Lord  Jesus  never  promised 
to  return  in  purple,  with  a  crown  upon  his  head. 
Where  are  the  prints  of  the  nails?  "  At  the  sound 
of  these  words  the  defeated  devil  vanished. 

Martin  suffered  much  from  many  enemies,  nat- 
ural and  supernatural. 

248 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

He  was  reviled  by  those  who  felt  that  his  holy 
life  was  a  criticism  upon  themselves.  Sulpicius 
says,  "Some  of  his  calumniators,  although  very 
few,  some  of  his  maligners,  I  say,  were  reported  to 
be  bishops ! "  The  biographer  is  reluctant  to  recall 
the  names  of  any  of  these  injurious  ecclesiastics. 
"I  shall  deem  it  suflScient,"  he  says,  "that,  if  any 
of  them  reads  this  account  and  perceives  that  he 
is  himself  pointed  at,  he  may  have  the  grace  to 
blush.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  shows  anger, 
he  will,  by  that  very  fact,  own  that  he  is  among 
those  spoken  of,  though  all  the  time  perhaps  I 
may  have  been  thinking  of  some  other  person." 

This  enmity  of  oflScials  was  the  natural  result  of 
Martin's  increasing  influence.  He  was  beginning 
to  disturb  the  conscience  of  the  contented  church. 
He  was  exhibiting  in  his  life  of  renunciation  an 
ideal  which  contrasted  sharply  with  the  lax  and 
secular  religion  of  the  time.  It  was  an  ideal  which 
devout  souls  recognized  and  which  they  desired  to 
follow.  Sulpicius  says  that  when  he  visited  Mar- 
tin, the  saint  continually  insisted  that  the  allure- 
ments of  the  world  and  all  secular  burdens  are  to 
be  abandoned  that  one  may  be  free  and  unencum- 
bered in  serving  the  Lord  Jesus.  Sulpicius  aban- 
doned them.  Paulinus  of  Nola,  a  great  nobleman, 
forsook  his  splendid  house  and  his  fair  estate  on 
the  Garonne,  and  the  pleasant  society  in  which 

M9 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

he  lived,  to  follow  Martin  into  the  solitude  of 
the  woods.  It  made  a  profound  sensation  in 
the  Roman  world.  Many  others  undertook  the 
ascetic  life. 

Martin  was  thus  the  Antony  of  the  West,  the 
pioneer  of  an  unorganized  monasticism,  attract- 
ing men  by  the  fascination  of  his  holy  life,  but 
leaving  them  for  the  most  part  to  use  such  spirit- 
ual methods  as  they  pleased.  His  settlement  near 
Poictiers,  in  360,  almost  coincident  with  the  mo- 
nastic life  of  Basil  and  Gregory,  was  probably  the 
first  monastery  in  Europe.  The  Life  of  Martin 
which  Sulpicius  wrote  became  a  kind  of  monastic 
gospel,  like  the  Life  of  Antony  written  by  Athana- 
sius.  It  was  read  everywhere.  It  was  the  most 
popular  book  of  the  fourth  century. 

Martin  was  like  Antony  in  his  belief  that  he  was 
visited  by  devils;  whom,  however,  he  encountered 
without  fear.  He  had  even  a  kindly  feeling  for  the 
chief  of  the  devils,  to  whom  he  once  ventured  to 
promise  salvation,  if  he  would  but  repent  him  of 
his  sins. 

The  people  of  Tours  called  Martin  from  his 
prayers  and  meditations  to  be  their  bishop.  They 
had  to  deceive  him  to  get  him  from  his  monastery. 
One  of  them  pretended  that  his  wife  was  desper- 
ately ill,  and  begged  him  to  come  and  visit  her. 
Then  they  all  crowded  about  him,  and  he  was  made 

250 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

bishop  in  spite  of  himself.  He  went  on  foot  about 
his  vast  diocese,  preaching  from  town  to  town, 
contending  with  paganism,  destroying  idols,  con- 
verting the  heathen,  and  everywhere  winning  the 
love  and  reverence  of  men.  He  was  the  evangelist 
of  France;  the  apostle  to  the  Gauls. 

He  never  ceased  to  be  a  monk.  Two  miles  out 
of  Tours,  beside  the  river  Loire,  he  found  a  retreat 
so  secret  and  retired  that  he  was  able  to  hide  him- 
self in  it.  It  was  like  the  glen  of  Annesi  as  de- 
scribed by  Basil.  "On  one  side  it  was  surrounded 
by  a  precipitous  rock  of  a  lofty  mountain,  while 
the  Loire  had  shut  in  the  rest  of  the  plain  by  a  bay 
extending  back  for  a  little  distance;  and  the  place 
could  be  approached  only  by  a  single  passage,  and 
that  a  very  narrow  one."  But  even  in  this  con- 
cealment he  was  discovered.  Young  men,  like- 
minded  with  him,  found  him  out,  and  settled 
near  him  in  caves  of  the  overhanging  mountain, 
till  there  were  eighty  of  them,  meeting  daily  for 
prayer  and  having  their  meals  in  common,  clothed 
in  garments  of  camel's  hair. 

Once  Martin  appeared  at  the  court  of  the 
emperor  Maximus,  to  intercede  for  the  Priscillian- 
ists.  These  were  gentle,  enthusiastic  and  mis- 
taken persons  who  had  fallen  into  a  heresy  con- 
cerning which  we  are  informed  only  by  references 
in  the  writings  of  their  enemies.  The  descriptions 

251 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

sound  like  a  sort  of  gnosticism.  The  Priscillianists 
were  educated  and  even  literary  persons,  and 
some  of  them  were  rich.  They  were  attacked  by 
two  neighboring  bishops,  regarding  whose  bad 
character  even  the  orthodox  accounts  agree. 
These  bishops  gathered  a  council  of  their  brethren 
and  condemned  the  heretics.  They  appealed  to 
the  emperor,  and  the  emperor  was  about  to  con- 
firm the  condemnation  when  Martin  appeared. 
He  had  no  inclination  toward  the  errors  of  the 
Priscillianists,  but  he  knew  that  their  lives  were 
innocent  and  holy.  In  response  to  his  intercession 
the  emperor  promised  to  set  them  free.  Hardly 
was  the  saint's  back  turned,  however,  when  the 
angry  bishops  persuaded  the  emperor  and  he  had 
Priscillian  beheaded,  with  six  of  his  companions. 
The  event  is  memorable  as  the  first  formal  hand- 
ing over  of  a  condemned  heretic  to  a  secular  court 
for  punishment.  It  was  the  beginning  of  a  long 
series  of  shameful  tragedies. 

Martin  indignantly  protested,  and  at  first  re- 
fused to  hold  communion  with  the  offending 
bishops.  In  order,  however,  to  save  the  lives  of 
some  of  the  lesser  members  of  the  sect,  he  felt  it 
necessary  to  yield.  He  attended  a  synod  of  bish- 
ops, and  he  dined  at  the  table  of  the  emperor.  It 
is  said  that  when  the  wine  was  passed  to  him,  and 
he  was  expected  to  pass  it  to  the  emperor,  he  gave 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

it  to  his  chaplain,  thus  declaring  that  the  hum- 
blest priest  is  above  the  proudest  prince.  So,  at 
least,  the  incident  was  interpreted  in  a  day  when 
the  church  was  contending  with  the  state  for  the 
mastery  of  the  world.  As  for  the  bishops,  St. 
Martin  declared  that  if  God  would  forgive  him 
for  sitting  with  them  in  that  synod,  he  would 
never  attend  another.  He  was  of  the  mind  of 
St.  Gregory  of  Nazianzus  regarding  ecclesiastical 
conventions. 

"No  one  ever  saw  him  enraged  or  excited," 
says  Sulpicius,  "or  lamenting  or  laughing;  he  was 
always  one  and  the  same,  displaying  a  kind  of 
heavenly  happiness  in  his  countenance.  Never 
was  there  a  feeling  in  his  heart  except  piety,  peace 
and  tender  mercy."  The  cape  which  he  wore  — 
capella  —  became  one  of  the  most  precious  pos- 
sessions of  the  kings  of  France,  and  the  sanctuary 
which  was  built  to  contain  it  was  called  Capella, 
hence  our  word  chapel.  The  position  of  his  me- 
morial day  in  the  church  calendar  gives  to  the 
most  beautiful  weeks  of  autumn  the  name  of 
St.  Martin's  Summer. 

m 

When  Martin  died,  in  the  year  400,  John  Cas- 
sian  was  completing  the  second  of  two  long  visits 
to  the  monasteries  of  Egypt.  Cassian  was  a  man 

1258 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

of  the  West,  probably  of  Gaul.  His  well-to-do 
parents  had  given  him  an  excellent  education, 
which  had  so  filled  his  memory  with  the  words  of 
the  classic  authors  that  they  frequently  came  in 
between  him  and  the  sacred  page.  He  could  not 
read  the  accounts  of  the  battles  and  heroes  of  the 
books  of  Kings  and  Chronicles  without  remember- 
ing Homer,  and  with  the  verses  of  the  Psalms  he 
heard  the  choruses  of  iEschylus. 

He  was  still  young,  however,  when  the  passion 
for  the  ascetic  life  possessed  him.  There  being 
then  no  monasteries  in  his  native  land,  he  made 
his  way  to  the  East,  a  pioneer  of  those  who,  long 
after,  out  of  the  same  country,  journeyed  as  pil- 
grims or  crusaders  to  the  Christian  shrines  of  Pal- 
estine. He  settled  among  monks  in  Bethlehem. 
But  Cassian  had  a  hungry  mind.  He  was  not 
content  to  say  his  prayers  and  save  his  soul.  He 
would  be  not  a  monk  only,  but  a  student  of  mo- 
nasticism.  He  made  himself  familiar,  accordingly, 
with  the  monastic  methods  first  of  Bethlehem, 
and  then  of  Syria,  and  asked  permission  to  visit 
the  famous  communities  of  Egypt.  Leave  for 
such  a  journey  was  given  on  the  condition  of  a 
speedy  return,  and  Cassian  and  his  friend  Ger- 
manus  started  on  their  voyage  of  discovery. 

They  landed  on  the  Delta  of  the  Nile,  and  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  visit  the  holy  hermits  who 

^4 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

had  their  dwelling  in  the  salt  marshes.  They  in- 
terviewed old  Chseremon,  now  past  his  hun- 
dredth year,  who  had  prayed  so  continuously  that 
he  could  no  longer  stand  up  straight,  but  went 
upon  his  hands  and  knees.  He  preached  to  the 
young  visitors  on  Perfection  and  on  the  Pro- 
tection of  God;  and  on  these  sermons,  as  on  all 
the  other  discourses  which  they  heard,  they  took 
notes.  The  Abbot  Pinufius  preached  on  the 
Marks  of  Satisfaction.  The  Abbot  John  told  them 
how  having  been  a  hermit  he  had  left  that  soli- 
tary life  and  entered  a  community  in  order  to 
practise  the  virtues  of  subjection  and  obedience. 
The  Abbot  Abraham  instructed  them  on  Morti- 
fication. The  pilgrims  were  now  so  heartily  enjoy- 
ing themselves,  and  were  finding  their  visit  so 
profitable,  that  they  reflected  with  much  regret 
upon  the  pledge  which  they  had  given  to  return 
to  Bethlehem  after  a  few  weeks.  They  consulted 
the  Abbot  Joseph,  who  explained  to  them  the 
Obligation  of  Promises.  The  explanation  was  so 
satisfactory  that  they  continued  on  their  travels 
and  did  not  return  to  Bethlehem  till  after  seven 
years. 

Even  then,  they  remained  but  a  short  time 
among  the  brethren,  being  again  permitted  by 
them  to  go  to  Egypt,  where  they  continued  their 
monastic   explorations.    They  now   visited   the 

255 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Nitrlan  Valley,  in  the  Libyan  desert,  northwest  of 
Cairo,  a  place  filled  with  monasteries.  Dr.  Butler, 
who  visited  the  district  in  1883,  found  four  of  these 
groups  of  buildings  still  standing  and  inhabited. 
They  were  all  constructed  on  the  same  plan,  and 
the  general  appearance  of  them  to-day  probably 
differs  little  from  what  Cassian  found.  Each  is 
described  as  "a  veritable  fortress,  standing  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  square,  with  blind, 
lofty  walls  rising  sheer  out  of  the  sand.  .  .  .  Each 
monastery  has  also,  either  detached  or  not,  a 
large  keep,  or  tower,  standing  four-square,  and 
approached  only  by  a  drawbridge.  The  tower 
contains  the  library,  storerooms  for  the  vestments 
and  sacred  vessels,  cellars  for  oil  and  corn,  and 
many  strange  holes  and  hiding-places  for  the 
monks  in  the  last  resort,  if  their  citadel  should  be 
taken  by  the  enemy.  Within  the  monastery  are 
enclosed  one  principal  and  one  or  two  smaller 
court-yards,  around  which  stand  the  cells  of  the 
monks,  domestic  buildings,  such  as  the  mill- 
room,  the  oven,  the  refectory,  and  the  like,  and 
the  churches."  ^ 

In  such  monasteries,  and  in  the  retreats  of  her- 
mits, Cassian  and  his  friend  were  privileged  to  lis- 
ten to  the  discourses  of  holy  men,  which  they 

*  Quoted  in  Dr.  Gibson's  Prolegomena  to  the  Writings  of  Cassian, 
from  A.  J.  Butler's  Ancient  Coptic  Churches  of  Africa. 

256  ' 


MONASTIGISM  IN  THE  WEST 

recorded  as  they  had  done  among  the  monks  of 
the  Delta.  The  Abbot  Serenus,  who  spoke  of  In- 
constancy of  Mind  and  of  Spiritual  Wickedness, 
taught  them  that  the  way  to  holiness  is  beset  by 
continual  temptation;  and  the  teaching  was  con- 
firmed by  Serapion,  who  instructed  them  in  the 
"Eight  Principal  Faults"  of  the  monastic  life: 
gluttony,  fornication,  covetousness,  anger,  dejec- 
tion, vain-glory  and  pride,  —  being  in  large  part 
the  sins  to  escape  which  the  monks  had  fled  into 
the  desert,  —  together  with  a  new  sin  which  they 
found  waiting  for  them  there,  the  sin  called 
** accidie,"  meaning  literally  "without  care," 
"without  interest,"  the  sin  of  religious  indiffer- 
ence. It  overtook  them  in  the  midst  of  their 
prayers  and  fastings,  this  desperate  question  as 
to  the  value  of  it  all.  They  wearied  of  their  holy 
living;  for  the  moment,  they  hated  it.  They 
described  this  fault,  in  the  phrase  of  a  psalm,  as 
"the  sickness  that  destroyeth  in  the  noonday.'* 
The  sun  of  the  African  desert  beat  upon  their 
heads,  and  their  hearts  failed  within  them.  All 
their  painful  life  of  renunciation  and  devotion 
seemed  a  wicked  folly. 

After  these  profitable  travels  Cassian  went  to 
Constantinople,  where  he  found  Chrysostom  un- 
dergoing persecution.  He  took  the  side  of  the 
saint,  by  whom  he  was  presently  ordained;  and 

^7 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

it  was  he  who  carried  to  Rome  the  letter  of  the 
faithful,  describing  the  scandalous  manner  in 
which  Chrysostom  had  been  deposed  and  exiled. 
From  Rome  he  went  to  the  neighborhood  of  Mar- 
seilles, and  there  in  the  midst  of  a  dense,  primeval 
forest  he  established  two  monasteries,  one  for  men 
and  one  for  women.  These  he  organized  according 
to  the  patterns  which  he  had  studied  in  the  East. 

At  Marseilles,  he  wrote  the  two  books  which 
gave  him  a  place  in  the  history  of  monasticism  in 
the  West  corresponding  to  the  place  of  St.  Basil  in 
the  history  of  monasticism  in  the  East.  He  found 
monastic  enthusiasm  and  a  passion  for  the  ascetic 
life;  and  he  found  men,  inspired  by  the  examples 
of  Martin,  of  Hilary  of  Poictiers  and  of  Pauli- 
nus  of  Nola,  living  solitary  or  in  communities 
engaged  in  prayer.  But  all  this  was  informal,  un- 
connected and  without  regulation. 

Cassian's  "Institutes,"  describing  the  life  which 
the  monks  lived  in  Egypt,  brought  the  experience 
of  the  East  to  the  service  of  the  West.  He  gave  a 
detailed  account  of  the  dress  of  the  monks,  their 
sheepskins  and  goatskins,  their  hoods  and  girdles, 
even  their  shoes.  He  explained  how  they  ar- 
ranged and  kept  their  hours  of  prayer.  He  called 
attention  to  the  reverence  and  serenity  of  their 
devotions.  "When  the  psalm  is  ended,"  he  said, 
"  they  do  not  hurry  at  once  to  kneel  down,  as  some 

258 


MONASTICISM   IN  THE  WEST 

of  us  do  in  this  country,  who,  before  the  psalm  is 
fairly  ended,  make  haste  to  prostrate  themselves 
for  prayer,  in  their  hurry  to  finish  the  service  as 
quickly  as  possible."  He  glorified  the  obedience 
of  the  Abbot  John,  who  at  the  command  of  a  su- 
perior stuck  a  dry  stick  into  the  ground,  and  for 
the  space  of  a  whole  year  watered  it  twice  a  day 
with  water  which  he  drew  from  the  river  two 
miles  distant;  and  the  obedience  of  the  Abbot 
Patermucius,  who  having  brought  with  him  into 
the  desert  his  little  boy  of  eight,  carried  him  in  his 
arms  to  the  river,  as  Abraham  had  conducted 
Isaac  to  the  mountain,  and,  being  so  ordered, 
threw  him  in;  whom  the  brethren,  we  are  glad 
to  learn,  pulled  safely  out. 

These  "Institutes"  St.  Benedict  afterwards 
made  the  basis  of  his  famous  Rule,  declaring  his 
purpose  not  to  improve  on  Cassian,  but  to  adapt 
his  plans  to  the  actual  level  of  ordinary  human 
nature.  Thus  they  underlie  to-day  the  order  of 
the  monastic  life  wherever  it  is  practised  in  the 
West.  Cassian's  "  Conferences,"  also  called  **  Col- 
lations," being  the  notes  which  he  took  of  the  ser- 
mons of  the  holy  brethren,  Benedict  arranged  to 
have  read  daily  in  his  monasteries,  page  by  page. 
In  the  late  afternoon,  after  the  day's  work  was 
done,  Benedict's  monks  sat  in  the  cloister  while 
one  read  aloud  the  discourses  which  Cassian  had 

259 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

collected,  and  the  supper  of  fruit  which  followed 
was  called  the  collation,  from  the  reading. 

IV 

The  pilgrimage  of  Cassian  was  not  a  unique 
experience.  Others  were  taking  similar  journeys 
of  holy  adventure.  The  biographer  of  St.  Martin 
gives  an  account  of  a  French  monk,  Postumianus, 
who  sailed  to  Carthage  to  worship  at  the  tomb 
of  Cyprian,  and  then,  being  driven  by  a  contrary 
wind  upon  a  barren  coast  of  Africa,  found  a  her- 
mit in  a  desert,  who,  he  says,  served  him  a  truly 
luxurious  breakfast,  "consisting  of  the  half  of  a 
barley  cake."  Thence  he  went  to  Alexandria 
where  he  found  monks  and  bishops  debating  dis- 
gracefully over  the  writings  of  Origen.  No  sight, 
however,  interested  him  more  than  the  spectacle 
of  a  monk  of  Bethlehem,  who,  says  the  traveller, 
"is  always  occupied  in  reading,  always  at  his 
books  with  his  whole  heart;  he  takes  no  rest  day 
or  night:  he  is  perpetually  either  reading  or  writ- 
ing something."  This  monk  was  St.  Jerome. 

Jerome  was  bom  in  Pannonia,  the  native  land 
of  Martin.  The  place  of  his  birth  was  soon  after 
destroyed  by  the  advancing  barbarians,  and  his 
parents  were  killed.  He  was  educated  in  Rome, 
where  his  Latin  teacher  was  old  ^Elius  Donatus, 
whose  grammar  ("  Ars  Grammatica")  was  taught 

260 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

in  the  schools  for  a  thousand  years.  This  was  the 
schoolmaster  whom  Dante  found  conversing  with 
Chrysostom  in  Paradise.  As  Cassian  remembered 
his  Homer  and  iEschylus,  so  Jerome  remembered 
his  Cicero  and  Plautus.  One  time,  long  after,  he 
was  carried  in  a  dream  before  the  Judgment  Seat 
above.  The  judge  said,  "Who  are  you?"  Jerome 
replied,  "I  am  a  Christian."  "No,"  said  the 
judge,  "you  are  a  Ciceronian."  And  the  angels 
were  commanded  to  beat  him.  He  says  that  when 
he  waked  his  shoulders  were  black  and  blue. 

Jerome  entered,  like  Tertullian  and  Augustine 
at  Carthage,  into  the  immoralities  of  Rome,  and 
was  never  free,  in  all  his  life,  from  the  temptations 
of  the  flesh.  But  he  was  converted.  He  went  at 
once  into  asceticism.  At  Aquileia  a  group  of 
friends  gathered  about  him,  and  they  lived  to- 
gether under  discipline,  saying  their  prayers,  and 
discussing  religion.  The  affection  which  these  men 
had  for  Jerome  ought  to  be  remembered  over 
against  his  later  quarrels  and  controversies.  It 
was  said  of  him,  indeed,  that  he  never  hesitated 
to  sacrifice  a  friend  for  an  opinion;  but  he  had  at 
the  same  time  a  genius  for  friendship.  He  was 
mightily  attractive  to  these  companions,  as  after- 
wards to  many  good  women  in  Rome.  They  ad- 
mired and  loved  him.  Presently  the  group  set  out 
together  on  a  pilgrimage  to  the  East.  After  wan- 

261 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

derings  which  brought  them  to  Antioch,  Jerome 
fell  sick,  and  so  continued  for  a  year.  Two  of  his 
friends  died. 

Recovering,  and  being  now  alone,  he  went  into 
a  neighboring  desert,  a  refuge  of  monks  and  her- 
mits, where  he  stayed  for  five  years.  Here  his 
austerities  did  but  increase  the  sensual  tempta- 
tions which  he  was  seeking  to  escape.  "I  used  to 
sit  alone,"  says  Jerome.  "I  had  no  companions 
but  scorpions  and  wild  beasts.  Sackcloth  disfig- 
ured my  limbs,  and  my  skin  from  long  neglect 
had  grown  as  black  as  an  Ethiopian's.  Tears  and 
groans  were  every  day  my  portion;  and  if  drowsi- 
ness chanced  to  overcome  my  struggles  against 
it,  my  bare  bones,  which  hardly  held  together, 
clashed  against  the  ground.  Yet  how  often  in 
that  vast  solitude,  in  that  savage  dwelling-place, 
parched  by  a  burning  sun,  how  often  did  I  fancy 
myself  among  the  pleasures  of  Rome!" 

Nevertheless,  he  continued  his  studies.  He 
gathered  books  about  him.  He  called  to  him  a 
company  of  pupils  who  served  him  as  amanuenses. 
He  began  to  learn  Hebrew,  a  knowledge  in  which 
he  differed  from  almost  all  of  his  Christian  con- 
temporaries. He  wrote  a  life  of  Paul  the  Hermit, 
which  presently  took  its  place  in  the  literature  of 
the  day  with  the  Life  of  Antony  by  Athanasius, 
and  the  Life  of  Martin  by  Sulpicius.  In  their  old 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

age,  he  says,  when  Paul  was  a  hundred  and  thir- 
teen and  Antony  was  ninety,  the  younger  hermit 
visited  the  elder;  and  that  day  a  raven,  which  for 
many  years  had  brought  Paul  every  morning  half 
a  loaf  of  bread,  flew  gently  down  and  laid  a  whole 
loaf  before  them.  The  two  saints  talked  together. 
"Tell  me,"  said  Paul,  "how  fares  the  human 
race?  Are  new  homes  springing  up  in  the  ancient 
cities?  What  government  directs  the  world?" 
Antony  knew  hardly  more  about  it  than  Paul 
himself.  Wlien  Paul  died,  leaving  as  his  sole  pos- 
session the  tunic  which  he  had  woven  out  of  palm- 
leaves,  two  lions  dug  his  grave.  The  lion  which 
appears  with  Jerome  in  the  familiar  pictures  is 
a  symbol  of  this  desert  life.  It  came  to  him  one 
day  holding  up  a  wounded  paw,  out  of  which  the 
saint  extracted  a  thorn. 

"I  beseech  you,  reader,"  —  so  the  Life  of  Paul 
ends,  —  "I  beseech  you,  whoever  you  may  be,  to 
remember  Jerome  the  sinner.  He,  if  God  would 
give  him  his  choice,  would  much  sooner  take 
Paul's  tunic  with  his  merits,  than  the  purple  of 
kings  with  their  punishments." 

The  troubles  of  the  contending  church  followed 
the  scholar  even  into  the  wilderness.  The  strife 
for  succession  to  the  bishopric  of  Antioch,  which 
engaged  the  attention  of  the  Council  of  Constan- 
tinople under  the  presidency  of  Gregory  of  Nazi- 

263 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

anzus,  divided  the  monks,  and  Jerome  found  his 
peace  perturbed  by  their  debates.  He  went  to 
Constantinople  where  he  studied  for  a  time  with 
Gregory,  and  translated  some  of  the  homilies  of 
Origen.  Thence  he  removed  to  Rome,  where  he 
entered  into  the  service  of  Pope  Damasus.  The 
Pope  proposed  questions,  mostly  on  the  inter- 
pretation of  Scripture,  to  which  Jerome  wrote 
learned  and  elaborate  answers.  Here  he  continued 
his  study  of  Origen,  whom  he  followed  in  the  col- 
lation of  versions  of  the  Septuagint,  endeavoring 
to  establish  an  accurate  text.  Here  he  made  the 
translation  of  the  Psalms  into  Latin  which  was 
used  in  the  services  of  the  Western  Church  for 
eleven  centuries. 

Jerome  found  the  Roman  world  as  he  remem- 
bered it  from  the  days  of  his  youth.  It  was  worse 
rather  than  better,  being  given  over  to  luxury  and 
pride  and  pleasure.  The  rich  were  idle,  cruel  and 
sensual.  Women  vied  with  each  other  in  the  costly 
splendor  of  their  dress.  Their  lips  were  red  with 
rouge,  their  faces  white  with  gypsum,  their  eye- 
brows black  with  antimony.  But  among  them 
were  good  women.  The  Lady  Marcella,  who 
lived  in  a  great  house  on  the  Aventine  Hill,  re- 
membered how  Athanasius  visited  Rome,  bring- 
ing with  him  two  monks  from  the  valley  of  the 
Nile.    They  had  mightily  impressed  her  in  her 

264 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

childhood.  In  her  house  Jerome  had  a  Bible 
class  of  wives  and  daughters  of  the  Roman  aris- 
tocracy. Under  his  instruction  they  studied  even 
Hebrew.  They  made  him  their  spiritual  director, 
the  keeper  of  their  conscience.  He  initiated  them 
into  the  discipline  of  the  ascetic  life.  The  Lady 
Paula  came,  a  great  person  in  the  social  world, 
and  brought  her  daughters  Blesilla  and  Eusto- 
chium.  Jerome's  influence  was  felt  throughout 
the  society  of  Rome. 

The  new  asceticism  made  immediate  enemies. 
It  was  opposed  instinctively  by  all  who  loved  the 
pleasures  of  the  world.  It  was  opposed  also  by 
those  who  found  in  its  extremes  a  defiance  of  the 
revelation  of  the  will  of  God  in  human  nature. 

Helvidius  attacked  its  insistence  on  the  su- 
preme sacredness  of  the  unmarried  life.  He  denied 
the  doctrine,  cardinal  to  all  ascetics,  of  the  per- 
petual virginity  of  the  mother  of  our  Lord.  The 
brothers  and  sisters,  he  said,  of  whom  mention  is 
made  in  the  Gospels,  were  her  children.  Jerome 
vehemently  denied  this.  He  maintained  that 
holiness  and  the  normal  wedded  state  are  antag- 
onistic. Marriage  means  crying  children,  and 
clamoring  servants,  and  cooks  and  seamstresses, 
and  anxiety  about  expense.  The  master  comes 
home  to  dinner:  the  wife  flutters  like  a  swallow 
all  about  the  house  to  see  that  everything  is  in 

9Jd5 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

order,  and  the  meal  ready  to  be  served.  "Tell 
me,  I  pray,  where  in  all  this  is  any  thought  of 
God?" 

Jovinian  had  made  trial  of  the  ascetic  life  and 
had  abandoned  it.  He  had  lived  on  bread  and 
water,  saying  his  prayers;  but  he  had  changed 
his  mind.  He  had  come  to  perceive  that  the  laws 
of  nature  are  the  laws  of  God,  and  that  the  normal 
human  life  is  acceptable  with  Him.  In  this  spirit 
he  had  written  books  in  which  he  declared  that 
"virginity,  widowhood  and  marriage  are  them- 
selves indifferent,  being  each  alike  pleasing  to 
God,"  and  that  "fasting  and  the  thankful  en- 
joyment of  food  are  of  equal  moral  validity."  To 
these  propositions,  which  to  us  are  common- 
places of  religion,  Jerome  opposed  himself  with 
the  fierceness  of  a  garrison  whose  strong  tower  is 
beset  by  the  enemy.  He  went  so  far  as  to  de- 
nounce marriage  as  a  state  of  sin,  and  so  scanda- 
lized sober  persons  by  his  destructive  enthusiasm 
that  Augustine  had  to  write  a  treatise  on  the  Good 
of  Marriage  to  counteract  his  teaching.  Jerome 
himself  withdrew  the  more  extreme  statements  of 
his  position,  and  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  excused 
himself  by  the  significant  statement  that  "it  is 
one  thing  to  argue,  and  another  thing  to  teach." 
Anything,  he  held,  is  fair  in  the  battle  of  debate. 

Vigilantius,  like  Jovinian,  saw  the  increasing 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

perils  of  asceticism.  He  felt  that  the  life  of  reli- 
gion was  being  corrupted  by  superstitious  devo- 
tions, especially  the  new  honors  which  were  being 
paid  to  the  relics  of  the  saints.  He  had  the  cour- 
age to  oppose  the  whole  current  of  the  Christian 
life  as  Jerome  directed  it,  declaring  that  paganism 
and  polytheism  were  being  invited  back  into  the 
church.  Jerome  in  reply  called  him  Dormitan- 
tius,  and  said  that  he  was  talking  in  his  sleep,  and 
snoring  instead  of  arguing.  He  wished  that  he 
could  deal  with  him  as  the  blessed  Paul  dealt  with 
Ananias  and  Sapphira. 

Jerome  arraigned  the  whole  world,  lay  and 
clerical.  In  an  amazing  letter  to  Eustochium  he 
advised  her  as  to  her  companions.  She  must  avoid 
the  society  of  married  women,  especially  those  of 
rank  and  wealth,  who  wear  robes  inwrought  with 
threads  of  gold.  She  must  have  no  intercourse 
with  widows,  who  go  abroad  in  capacious  litters, 
with  red  cloaks,  looking  for  new  husbands.  "Let 
your  companions  be  women  pale  and  thin  with 
fasting."  She  must  shun  all  men,  especially 
clergymen,  and  more  particularly  such  clergy- 
men as  "use  perfumes  freely,  and  see  that  there 
are  no  creases  in  their  shoes.  Their  curling  hair 
shows  traces  of  the  tongs;  their  fingers  glisten 
with  rings;  they  walk  on  tiptoe  across  a  damp 
road,  not  to  splash  their  feet/'^ 

^7 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

The  letter  is  of  much  interest  to  the  student 
of  Roman  manners  in  the  fourth  century,  but  it 
is  easy  to  see  how  the  publication  of  it  increased 
the  hostility  which  was  rising  against  the  plain- 
speaking  monk  who  wrote  it.  The  young  men  of 
Rome  already  hated  the  man  who  told  the  young 
women  not  to  marry.  The  clergy  hated  him 
whose  austere  life  was  a  criticism  upon  their  com- 
fortable ways.  When  presently  Blesilla  died,  and 
the  rumor  went  abroad  that  she  had  been  killed 
by  the  monastic  discipline  to  which  she  had  sub- 
jected herself,  there  was  a  riot  at  her  funeral,  and 
people  cried,  "The  monks  to  the  Tiber!"  Then 
Pope  Damasus  came  to  the  end  of  his  days,  and 
in  his  death  Jerome  lost  his  strong  protecter.  He 
had  to  leave  the  city.  He  betook  himself  to  Beth- 
lehem, whither  Paula  and  Eustochium  followed 
him. 

On  the  eve  of  his  departure  Jerome  wrote  a 
letter  to  the  Lady  Asella,  defending  himself 
against  the  slanders  of  the  city.  They  call  me, 
he  said,  an  infamous  person,  crafty  and  slippery 
and  a  liar.  At  first  they  said  that  I  was  holy  and 
humble  and  eloquent,  and  that  I  ought  to  be  a 
bishop.  Now  the  place  is  filled  with  gossip  about 
me  and  the  holy  Paula,  "one  who  mourns  and 
fasts,  who  is  squalid  with  neglect,  and  almost 
blind  with  weeping,  whose  delights  are  self-denials. 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

and  whose  life  a  fast."  "  I  thank  my  God  that 
I  am  worthy  of  the  hatred  of  the  world." 

Friends  and  disciples  accompanied  the  pil- 
grims, and  in  Bethlehem  they  built  monasteries, 
with  Paula's  money.  She  presided  over  one,  rul- 
ing a  community  of  holy  women;  he  presided 
over  the  other.  And  they  maintained  together  a 
guest-house  for  travellers,  so  that  if  Joseph  and 
Mary  came  that  way  again  there  should  be  hos- 
pitality for  them  at  the  inn. 

Jerome  was  now  forty-one  years  old,  and  had 
thirty-four  years  yet  to  live.  He  devoted  him- 
self to  his  interrupted  studies.  He  opened  a  school 
for  the  Bethlehem  children,  teaching  them  Greek 
and  Latin.  He  took  up  again  the  study  of  He- 
brew. Every  day  Paula  and  Eustochium  came 
over  to  the  pleasant  cave  which  he  called  the 
"paradise  of  studies"  and  together  they  read  the 
Bible  and  discoursed  upon  it.  There  it  was  that 
Postumianus  found  him,  "always  at  his  books 
with  his  whole  heart."  There  he  kept  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  monastic  life,  wearing  the  brown 
habit  of  a  hermit,  and  sweetening  all  his  studies 
with  his  prayers. 

He  never  succeeded  in  sweetening  his  temper. 
His  wrath  still  broke  out  as  of  old  against  his 
critics  and  his  enemies,  and  against  all  heretics. 
He  set  an  example  which  poisoned  the  whole 

269 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

stream  of  controversy  down  to  very  recent  times. 
Nothing  was  too  bad  for  him  to  say  about  those 
with  whom  he  disagreed.  But  he  appreciated  the 
peace  of  Bethlehem.  "Here  bread,  and  herbs 
grown  with  our  own  hands,  and  milk,  rural  deli- 
cacies, afford  us  humble  but  wholesome  food.  Liv- 
ing thus,  sleep  does  not  overtake  us  in  prayer, 
satiety  does  not  interfere  with  study.  In  sum- 
mer, the  trees  afford  us  shade.  In  autumn,  the 
air  is  cool,  and  the  fallen  leaves  give  us  a  quiet 
resting-place.  In  spring  the  field  is  clothed  with 
flowers,  and  we  sing  our  songs  the  sweeter  among 
the  singing  of  the  birds.  When  the  winter  is  cold, 
and  the  snow  comes,  we  have  no  lack  of  wood, 
and  I  watch  or  sleep  warm  enough.  Let  Rome 
keep  its  crowds,  let  its  arena  be  cruel,  its  circus 
go  wild,  its  theatre  indulge  in  luxury,  and  —  not 
to  forget  our  friends  —  let  the  senate  of  ladies 
exchange  their  daily  visits.  Our  happiness  is  to 
cleave  to  the  Lord,  and  to  put  our  trust  in  the 
Lord  God."  It  is  a  pleasant  picture,  in  happy 
contrast  with  the  barren  deserts  in  which  Paul 
and  Antony  lived  their  painful  lives. 

The  chief  fruit  of  these  years  of  quiet  and  con- 
genial study  was  the  Latin  translation  of  the 
Bible,  called  the  Vulgate. 

The  Psalter,  which  Jerome  had  published  in 
Rome,  was  translated  from  the  Septuagint,  and 

270 


MONASTICISM  IN  THE  WEST 

kept  its  place  in  the  service  of  the  church  in  spite 
of  the  Psalter  which  he  now  translated  from  the 
Hebrew;  as  the  Psalms  of  Coverdale  remain 
to-day  in  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer,  in  spite  of 
the  new  translations  of  1611  and  1885.  But  the 
rest  of  Jerome's  Bible  superseded  all  existing 
versions.  Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  all  Eu- 
ropean Christendom  read  the  Scriptures  in  the 
words  which  he  had  written.  For  a  great  part 
of  the  Western  Church,  his  translation  is  the 
Bible  to  this  day.  The  men  who  made  the  Eng- 
lish Bible  which  we  use  had  Jerome's  sentences  by 
heart,  and  the  cadences  of  them  still  sound  in  the 
sacred  pages  which  we  read  and  in  the  prayers 
which  we  pray. 

Toxotius,  the  son  of  Paula,  and  representative 
of  her  great  Roman  house,  married  the  daughter 
of  Albinus  who  in  his  day  was  Pontifex  Maximus 
in  the  persisting  paganism  in  which  he  lived  and 
died.  But  their  little  daughter  Paula  was  baptized 
a  Christian.  Jerome  in  his  last  years,  advised  that 
the  letters  of  the  alphabet  be  written  on  separate 
pieces  of  ivory  for  the  child  to  play  with,  that 
she  might  thus  begin  her  education.  A  pleasant 
legend,  celebrated  in  Domenichino's  famous  pic- 
ture, said  that  the  last  sacrament  was  adminis- 
tered to  Jerome  by  the  hand  of  St.  Augustine. 


>1^ 


CHAPTER  X 

■AUGUSTINE 

IN  the  congregation  of  St.  Ambrose  at  Milan, 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  fourth  century,  there 
was  a  young  man  with  whom  many  persons  are 
better  acquainted  than  with  some  of  their  inti- 
mate friends.  He  wrote  an  account  of  his  life,  in 
which  he  set  down  with  exceeding  frankness  not 
only  what  he  had  done,  but  what  he  had  thought. 
And  this  account  remains  to  this  day.  It  is  the 
earliest  of  autobiographies.  Here,  for  the  first 
time  since  the  world  began,  did  a  man  write  a 
book  about  himself.  Even  now,  after  these  fifteen 
hundred  years,  it  is  still  the  best  of  such  books. 
Benvenuto  Cellini  gave  an  interesting  and 
entertaining  account  of  himself,  telling  honestly 
how  faithfully  he  prayed  and  how  frequently  he 
broke  the  Ten  Commandments,  and  thereby 
revealing  the  mediaeval  conscience.  John  Bun- 
yan,  in  "Grace  Abounding,"  recounted  his  re- 
ligious experience,  with  a  statement  of  his  faults 
so  frank  that  it  went  beyond  the  fact,  and  re- 
vealed thereby  the  self -accusing  conscience  of  the 
Puritan.  But  the  supreme  autobiography  is  the 
"Confessions"  of  St.  Augustine. 

272 


AUGUSTINE 

The  book  had  no  precedent,  and  in  its  form  it 
has  had  no  imitator;  for  it  is  in  the  form  of  prayer, 
—  the  longest  printed  prayer.  From  beginning 
to  end,  the  writer  addresses  himself  to  God.  To 
read  it  is  to  overhear  a  penitent  at  his  devotions. 


Augustine  was  born  in  the  middle  of  the  fourth 
century,  in  the  Roman  province  of  Africa,  in 
Tagaste,  a  country  town  of  Numidia.  Of  the  two 
great  Christian  fathers  of  that  neighborhood, 
Cyprian  had  been  dead  a  hundred  years,  and 
TertuUian  a  hundred  and  fifty;  but  they  were 
remembered  as  Whitefield  and  Edwards  are  re- 
membered in  New  England.  In  spite  of  these 
devout  memories  Carthage  was  still  a  pagan  city. 
Augustine's  mother  was  a  Christian,  but  his  fa- 
ther was  a  pagan. 

A  recent  writer,  in  a  book  upon  which  a  very 
respectable  English  publisher  put  his  imprint, 
cast  it  up  as  a  reproach  against  the  Christian 
Church  that  its  theology  for  a  thousand  years 
was  dominated  by  a  black  man.  The  idea  was 
that  all  people  who  lived  in  Africa  must  be  of 
African  descent.  A  similar  course  of  reasoning 
would  include  to-day  the  English  governors  of 
Egypt.  Augustine's  name  is  evidence  of  his 
Roman  ancestry.  His  people  came  from  Italy. 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Monica,  the  mother  of  Augustine,  belongs  to 
the  shining  company  of  saintly  wives  and  mothers 
who  have  contended  successfully  with  difficult 
domestic  conditions.  For  many  years,  neither 
her  husband  nor  her  son  showed  any  interest  in 
religion,  and  during  much  of  that  time  they  lived 
not  only  irreligious  but  immoral  lives.  The  at- 
tainment of  her  prayers  in  the  final  conversion  of 
them  both  has  ever  since  been  an  inspiration  to 
maternal  faith  and  patience. 

As  for  Augustine's  father,  the  only  thing  which 
is  set  down  to  his  credit  is  the  fact  that  he  did 
not  beat  his  wife.  The  discipline  of  wives  was  a 
part  of  the  common  life  of  the  time.  Almost  all  of 
the  friends  of  Monica  appeared  occasionally  with 
bruised  faces.  Her  immunity  was  a  continual 
perplexity  to  the  neighborhood.  She  explained 
that  it  takes  two  to  make  a  quarrel. 

Augustine  learned  to  pray  at  his  mother's 
knee,  but  he  was  not  baptized.  The  age  of  thirty 
was  considered  the  proper  time  for  baptism,  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  Christ.  The  life  of  Au- 
gustine represents  a  transition  in  the  doctrine 
of  baptism  from  one  superstition  to  another.  In 
his  infancy  the  idea  was  that  the  water  of  bap- 
tism washed  away  all  sin;  it  was  well  to  defer  the 
cleansing  bath  till  the  temptations  of  youth  were 
past.  In  his  maturity  the  idea  was  that  without 

274 


AUGUSTINE 

baptism  salvation  was  impossible,  or  at  the  least 
uncertain;  infants  must  be  baptized  in  order  to 
be  saved. 

He  went  to  church  with  his  mother  in  his  early 
childhood,  but  soon  showed  a  disposition  to  fol- 
low the  example  of  his  father.  He  says  that  he 
was  a  bad  boy  at  school,  neglecting  his  studies, 
running  away  to  play  ball,  in  spite  of  his  mother's 
diligent  beating.  He  liked  Latin,  but  hated  Greek 
much,  and  mathematics  more. 

Going  to  college  in  Carthage,  he  changed  from 
bad  to  worse.  He  made  the  acquaintance  of  evil 
companions,  and  exposed  himself  to  all  the  temp- 
tations of  the  college  and  the  city.  This,  he  says, 
was  not  wholly  from  a  love  of  wrong,  but  in  great 
part  from  a  love  of  praise.  He  desired  admira- 
tion, and  tried  to  get  it  by  making  himself  out 
worse  than  he  was,  and  boasting  of  misde- 
meanors which  he  never  did.  A  common  prank 
of  college  life  in  Carthage  was  to  break  up  lec- 
tures by  disturbances  in  class  rooms.  A  gang  of 
youths  would  go  about  from  room  to  room  for  the 
purpose  of  annoying  the  instructors.  Augustine 
either  belonged  to  such  a  crowd  or  sympathized 
with  their  performances.  These,  however,  were 
minor  offences.  Carthage  was  still  the  same  hard 
town  against  which  the  soul  of  Tertullian  had 
revolted.  Augustine  entered  into  its  vicious  ways. 

275 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

At  the  age  of  eighteen,  he  took  a  wife,  without  the 
observance  of  any  formality  either  civil  or  eccle- 
siastical. He  seemed  to  be  going  to  the  devil. 

In  this  darkness,  there  were  two  rays  of  light. 
One  was  the  fact  that  the  boy,  with  all  his  disre- 
gard of  study,  had  a  singularly  able  mind.  The 
other  was  the  fact  that  he  was  dissatisfied  and 
unhappy.  He  says  that  he  was  as  one  who  has 
lost  his  way,  and  earnestly  desires  to  get  out  of 
the  woods  into  the  road,  but  knows  not  in  what 
direction  to  turn.  The  note  of  this  whole  period 
of  his  life  is  in  the  first  paragraph  of  the  "Confes- 
sions": "Thou,  O  God,  hast  made  us  for  Thyself, 
and  our  hearts  are  restless  till  they  find  rest  in 
Thee." 

He  was  recalled  in  some  measure  from  his  evil 
courses  by  reading  a  book  of  Cicero,  the  "Hor- 
tensius,"  now  lost.  It  stirred  in  him  the  spirit 
of  speculation  and  of  aspiration.  That  the  lad  of 
nineteen  was  interested  in  such  a  book  shows  that 
he  was  different  from  his  companions.  Cicero 
had  much  to  say  about  the  quest  of  truth.  He 
exalted  truth  for  its  own  sake,  apart  from  all  en- 
tanglements of  formularies,  as  the  most  precious 
of  possessions.  He  taught  also  that  truth  is  to 
be  attained  by  the  pure  mind,  along  the  way  of 
character. 

In  order  to  get  strength  to  realize  this  ideal 
276 


AUGUSTINE 

Augustine  associated  himself  with  the  Mani- 
chseans.  They  attracted  him  as  the  Montanists 
had  attracted  Tertullian. 

Manichseism  was  a  new  religion  which  had 
been  founded  in  the  middle  of  the  third  century 
by  Mani,  a  Persian  prophet.  He  appeared  as  a 
man  of  God,  having  a  message  from  on  high.  At 
first  he  proclaimed  his  revelation  with  accept- 
ance, but  presently  opposition  arose  from  the  es- 
tablished religion  of  Zoroaster,  and  the  prophet 
was  crucified.  Thereupon  his  doctrines  were 
carried  east  and  west,  east  to  India  and  China, 
west  to  Italy  and  Africa. 

The  basis  of  Manichaeism  was  the  dualistic 
theology  of  Zoroaster.  There  are  two  gods,  good 
and  bad,  corresponding  to  the  two  sides  of  human 
life,  symbolized  by  day  and  night,  by  joy  and 
sorrow,  by  life  and  death.  The  son  of  the  good 
god  invaded  the  kingdom  of  the  bad  god  and  was 
taken  captive.  His  father  came  and  rescued  him, 
but  in  the  struggle  he  lost  a  great  treasure  of 
celestial  light.  To  keep  this  treasure  from  recov- 
ery by  the  good  god,  the  bad  god  placed  it  in  man 
who  was  created  for  that  purpose,  —  a  little  light 
in  every  man.  Here  are  we,  then,  children  of  the 
devil,  but  having  within  us  a  celestial  spark.  The 
problem  of  human  life  is  how  to  free  this  bit  of 
heaven  from  the  bondage  of  matter.   To  aid  in 

277 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

this  endeavor  came  first  the  prophets,  then  Jesus 
Christ,  then  the  Holy  Spirit  whose  coming  Christ 
foretold,  and  who  was  present  in  the  world  in  the 
person  of  Mani.  Man  proceeds  along  the  way  of 
life  according  to  counsels  and  directions  which 
are  given  him  as  he  advances  from  grade  to  grade 
of  the  Manichsean  mysteries.  At  last  he  attains 
to  life  eternal.  Into  this  system  of  religion,  the 
Manichseans  brought  occult  doctrines  of  stars, 
and  dealt  in  magic,  and  cast  horoscopes. 

Manichseism  attracted  Augustine  by  its  appeal 
to  his  intelligence.  It  offered  a  solution  of  the 
problem  of  evil.  It  gave  a  rational  explanation  of 
sin  and  pain.  It  showed  how  a  bad  world  and  a 
good  God  could  exist  together.  And  this  explana- 
tion was  in  accord  with  the  current  philosophy, 
according  to  which  matter  is  essentially  evil,  and 
the  source  of  evil.  To  this  was  added  an  exhila- 
rating sense  of  freedom,  an  intellectual  liberty,  a 
large  license  of  criticism  of  the  past.  For  Mani 
proposed  his  religion  as  an  advance  beyond  Ju- 
daism and  Christianity,  and  his  followers  felt 
privileged  to  read  both  Testaments  with  dis- 
crimination, choosing  here,  and  refusing  there. 

Manichseism  further  attracted  Augustine  by 
its  appeal  to  his  conscience.  It  convicted  him  of 
sin.  It  set  before  him  a  conception  of  the  wicked- 
ness of  the  world  which  was  in  accordance  with 

278 


AUGUSTINE 

his  own  experience,  and  offered  him  a  way  out. 
It  proposed  a  plan  of  salvation.  It  did  not  disclose 
the  details  of  this  plan.  These  were  reserved  to  be 
communicated  to  the  disciple  little  by  little,  as 
he  passed  from  grade  to  grade.  This  reserva- 
tion was  in  itself  attractive  by  reason  of  the  ele- 
ment of  mystery.  It  encouraged  and  maintained 
devout  expectation.  The  disciple  began  as  a 
** hearer,"  serving  a  long  novitiate;  then  he  be- 
came an  "adept";  and  there  were  attainments  of 
degrees  beyond  that.  Augustine  never  advanced 
beyond  the  preparatory  stage,  but  the  undis- 
closed central  sanctuary  gave  significance  to  all 
the  approaches,  however  distant.  He  hoped  to 
escape  at  last  from  sin,  and  find  peace  and  bless- 
ing. Meanwhile,  the  doctrine  that  the  struggle  of 
which  he  was  conscious  in  his  own  soul  was  part 
of  a  vast  universal  contention  between  rival  gods 
gave  new  dignity  to  his  life. 

By  this  time  Augustine  had  completed  his  col- 
lege course,  and  had  returned  to  his  native  town 
as  a  teacher  of  rhetoric,  or,  as  we  would  say,  liter- 
ature. He  read  the  Latin  classics  with  his  stu- 
dents. But  the  sudden  death  of  a  young  man  to 
whom  he  was  devotedly  attached  so  saddened 
him  that  he  felt  impelled  to  leave  the  scenes  of 
a  friendship  so  tragically  interrupted.  He  re- 
turned to  Carthage,  and  began  to  lecture.    He 

279 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

now  found  that  the  custom  of  disturbing  lecture- 
rooms,  which  had  been  so  pleasant  to  him  as  a 
student,  was  by  no  means  so  agreeable  from  his 
point  of  view  as  teacher.  Augustine  disliked  it  so 
much  that  he  left  Carthage  and  went  to  Rome. 
But  the  Roman  students  had  a  way  of  their  own 
quite  as  inconvenient  as  the  boisterous  manners 
of  the  Carthaginians.  They  were  much  more 
courteous  in  their  behavior,  but  they  evaded  the 
payment  of  their  bills.  When  the  end  of  the  course 
approached,  and  pay-day  with  it,  they  absented 
themselves,  and  the  teacher  found  himself  with- 
out support.  Happily,  at  this  moment  there  was  a 
vacancy  in  the  professorship  of  rhetoric  at  Milan. 
This  was  a  government  position,  and  the  salary 
was  paid  by  the  state.  Augustine  applied  for  the 
position.  The  prefect  Symmachus  approved,  and 
he  was  appointed.  To  Milan,  then,  he  went,  tak- 
ing with  him  his  mother,  his  wife,  his  little  son 
Adeodatus,  and  Alypius,  a  friend. 

Being  thus  established  at  Milan,  Augustine 
rejected  Manichseism.  This  he  did  in  part  be- 
cause he  lost  faith  in  the  veracity  of  horoscopes; 
a  slave  and  a  prince  might  be  born  under  the  same 
star:  but  also  because  he  observed  that  the  prac- 
tice of  some  eminent  Manichseans  contradicted 
their  professions. 

He  was  now  reading  Aristotle,  and  that  mas- 
^0 


AUGUSTINE 

ter's  emphasis  on  facts,  demanding  a  solid  basis 
of  reality,  completed  his  conversion  from  a  reli- 
gion whose  theology  was  mainly  constructed  out 
of  imagination.  Indeed,  the  clear  intellect  of  Aris- 
totle served  for  a  time  to  turn  Augustine  from  all 
creeds,  and  all  faith  in  whatever  could  not  be 
proved  by  processes  of  reason.  Again  he  drifted 
without  anchor,  blown  by  the  shifting  winds. 

Out  of  this  condition,  Neoplatonism  came  to 
save  him.  In  the  doctrines  of  this  philosophy, 
subordinating  all  things  material,  finding  all  real- 
ity in  God,  and  all  worthy  occupation  in  the 
endeavor  to  know  God  and  to  be  in  communion 
with  Him,  Augustine  found  nourishment  for  the 
mystical  side  of  his  nature. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  at  this  moment,  as 
he  was  committing  himself  to  a  career  which  de- 
manded first  purgation,  then  illumination,  then 
separation  from  the  world,  Augustine  looked 
about  with  deliberate  prudence  for  a  rich  wife. 
He  had  proposed  to  establish  a  little  community 
of  philosophers,  wherein  he  and  a  few  congenial 
companions  might  debate  without  interruption 
the  problems  of  the  soul.  But  such  a  community 
must  have  a  financial  basis.  Even  after  the  plan 
failed,  Augustine  found  that  his  creditors  inter- 
rupted the  serenity  of  his  thought.  So  he  pro- 
posed to  improve  his  condition    by  marrying 

^1 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

money.  A  young  woman  was  found  who  on  her 
side  was  willing  to  undertake  the  perilous  adven- 
ture of  marrying  philosophy.  They  were  accord- 
ingly betrothed.  Thereupon  Augustine  discarded 
his  true  wife,  the  mother  of  his  son,  who  had  lived 
with  him  faithfully  for  thirteen  years.  She  was 
his  wife,  saving  only  the  formulas  of  church  and 
state.  But  he  put  her  away,  keeping  his  son, 
sending  her  back  to  Africa.  And  to  these  transac- 
tions, the  good  Monica  gave  her  approval. 

We  are  following  the  frank  story  of  the  "Con- 
fessions," saying  to  ourselves.  How  contemporary 
it  all  is !  and  of  a  sudden  we  come  on  such  an  inci- 
dent as  this,  and  we  perceive  that  after  all  we  are 
dealing  with  a  Roman  African,  in  the  end  of  the 
fourth  century.  Happily,  the  conversion  of  Au- 
gustine to  the  Christian  religion  put  a  stop  to 
all  further  matrimonial  progress.  The  young  girl 
with  the  great  fortune  passes  out  of  sight  between 
the  lines  of  the  book  and  is  heard  of  no  more. 

Meanwhile,  Augustine  had  been  attending  the 
services  of  the  church  in  Milan.  Ambrose  had 
strongly  appealed  to  him,  a  great  noble  who  had 
become  a  great  bishop.  He  heard  him  often.  He 
perceived  that  Ambrose  was  basing  truth  on 
authority,  telling  the  people  that  they  ought  to 
believe  thus  and  so  because  that  was  the  doctrine 
of  the  church. 

282 


AUGUSTINE 

This  teaching  was  the  result  of  Ambrose's  own 
experience.  Coming  to  his  place  as  bishop  straight 
from  civil  life,  having  never  so  much  as  opened  a 
book  of  theology  before  the  day  of  his  ordination, 
and  being  so  busy  from  that  time  forward  that 
serious  study  was  almost  impossible,  he  had  been 
obliged  to  take  the  doctrines  of  divinity  at  second 
hand.  And  to  this  his  administrative  genius  fur- 
ther inclined  him.  He  regarded  the  church  from 
the  point  of  view  of  an  experienced  state  official. 
He  saw  the  working  advantage  of  a  general  uni- 
formity of  thought  and  action:  men  must  do  as 
they  are  told,  and  believe  as  they  are  taught. 
This  was  the  attitude  not  of  Ambrose  only,  but  of 
the  West  in  general.  It  was  characteristic  of  the 
Occidental  mind,  impatient  of  metaphysics,  caring 
for  conduct  rather  than  for  creed.  To  Augustine, 
after  his  fruitless  wanderings,  seeking  truth  and 
finding  no  abiding  satisfaction,  the  position  of 
Ambrose  was  appealingly  attractive.  Tossed  by 
waves  and  buffeted  by  winds,  he  was  invited  into 
the  secure  harbor  of  the  church. 

Then  on  a  day  when  Augustine  with  a  group  of 
friends  was  discussing  the  problems  of  the  reli- 
gious life,  one  told  the  story  of  St.  Antony  as 
written  by  St.  Athanasius :  how  for  love  of  Christ 
he  had  abandoned  all  and  followed  Him.  The 
recital  impressed  Augustine  profoundly.  He  lis- 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

tened  with  tears.  Disturbed  in  mind,  restless,  dis- 
satisfied, reproached  by  his  conscience,  called  of 
God  but  returning  no  reply,  he  parted  from  his 
companions,  and  going  into  a  little  quiet  garden 
behind  the  house  began  to  consider  his  forlorn 
condition.  "How  long,"  he  lamented  to  himself, 
"shall  I  be  as  one  who  wakes  in  the  morning  and 
knows  that  he  should  rise,  but  rises  not?  How 
long  shall  I  pray,  O  God,  make  me  a  Christian  — 
but  not  yet!" 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  voice  as  of  a  child,  singing 
over  and  over  as  if  it  were  the  refrain  of  a  song, 
"Take  and  read!  Take  and  read!  Take  and 
read ! "  He  received  the  words  as  a  message  from 
on  high.  He  understood  them  to  have  reference 
to  the  Bible.  That  book  he  was  to  take  and  read. 
He  took  the  book,  and  let  it  fall  open  where  it 
would,  and  read,  "Let  us  walk  honestly,  as  in  the 
day;  not  in  rioting  and  drunkenness,  not  in  cham- 
bering and  wantonness,  not  in  strife  and  envying. 
But  put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  make 
not  provision  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfill  the  lusts  there- 
of." "Instantly,"  he  says,  "as  if  the  light  of  sal- 
vation had  been  poured  into  my  heart  with  the 
close  of  the  sentence,  all  the  darkness  of  my 
doubts  had  fled  away." 

Nothing  so  important  in  the  history  of  Chris- 
tianity had  happened  since  the  heavens  opened 

284 


AUGUSTINE 

over  the  road  to  Damascus.  The  dominance  of 
Augustine  in  Western  theology  can  be  compared 
only  to  the  universal  dominance  of  Paul.  He 
directed  the  thought  not  only  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
but  of  the  Reformation. 

Immediately,  Augustine  informed  Ambrose  of 
his  desire  to  be  baptized,  and  retired  with  a  few 
friends  into  the  country  to  prepare  himself.  There 
they  exercised  their  bodies  in  the  fields,  and  their 
minds  in  long  debates  on  the  Blessed  Life,  the 
Order  of  Providence,  and  kindred  themes  in  reli- 
gion and  philosophy.  Then  on  Easter  Even,  387, 
Augustine  was  made  a  member  of  the  Christian 
Church. 

There  is  no  foundation  for  the  tradition  that 
the  Te  Deum  was  composed  on  that  occasion, 
Augustine  and  Ambrose  singing  the  great  words 
in  turn.  That  hymn  was  composed  about  that 
time,  but  probably  by  Nicetas,  a  missionary 
bishop  in  Dacia.  It  expresses,  however,  the  faith 
and  praise  with  which  their  hearts  were  filled. 

Augustine  resigned  his  professorship  to  devote 
himself  entirely  to  the  service  of  religion.  He  de- 
termined to  return  to  his  own  land.  One  even- 
ing at  the  port  of  Ostia,  where  they  waited  for  the 
ship  which  was  to  carry  them  to  Africa,  Augustine 
and  his  mother  sat  together  in  the  moonlight, 
looking  out  over  the  sea,  talking  long  and  inti- 

285 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

mately  of  the  past  and  the  future,  and  especially 
of  the  religion  which  had  transformed  his  life. 
There  they  sat  as  Ary  Scheff er  represents  them  in 
his  famous  picture.  And  Monica  said,  "My  son, 
I  am  now  altogether  satisfied.  Why  should  I  live 
longer?  The  hopes  and  prayers  of  all  my  life  are 
answered." 

The  next  day  she  fell  sick,  and  in  a  little  while 
she  died. 

With  the  death  of  Monica  the  autobiographical 
part  of  the  "Confessions"  ends.  Augustine  wrote 
the  book  twelve  years  after,  in  order,  as  he  said,  to 
show  out  of  how  deep  a  depth  a  soul  may  cry  to 
God  and  be  answered  and  delivered.  Of  all  the 
writing  of  the  early  church  this  is  the  only  book 
which  is  known  to-day  to  the  untechnical  reader, 
the  only  contribution  of  the  time  to  the  common 
treasury  of  literature. 

The  interests  of  men  change,  their  emphasis 
passes  from  one  matter  to  another,  even  the 
theology  of  the  old  time  becomes  unreadable  to 
the  new  generations;  but  human  nature  remains 
the  same.  It  is  forever  contemporary.  The  "  Con- 
fessions" is  one  of  the  immortal  books,  with  the 
epics  of  Homer  and  the  dialogues  of  Plato,  be- 
cause it  is  an  honest  disclosure  of  the  tempta- 
tions, the  contentions,  the  aspirations  of  the 
soul  of  man. 

S86 


AUGUSTINE 


II 


The  return  of  Augustine  to  Africa  marks  the  be- 
ginning of  the  second  of  the  two  major  divisions 
of  his  life.  Out  of  his  novitiate  he  passed  into  his 
ministry. 

He  spent  three  years  in  monastic  seclusion, 
though  not  in  solitude.  He  kept  a  group  of 
friends  about  him.  They  lived  on  the  farm  which 
had  been  the  property  of  his  father.  There  they 
set  the  example  in  Africa  of  that  spiritual  disci- 
pline which  Basil  and  Gregory  had  practised  in 
the  East,  and  Martin  and  Cassian  and  Jerome  had 
preached  in  the  West. 

After  three  years  of  this  delightful  quiet,  being 
on  a  Sunday  in  the  neighboring  town  of  Hippo, 
the  bishop  of  that  place  in  his  sermon  reminded 
the  congregation  that  he  was  growing  old  and 
feeble,  and  that  being  himself  a  Greek  it  was  par- 
ticularly hard  for  him  to  preach  in  Latin.  The  peo- 
ple, understanding  what  was  in  his  mind,  seized 
upon  Augustine  whose  holy  life  they  knew,  and 
demanded  that  he  become  the  bishop's  assistant. 
To  this  he  reluctantly  consented.  He  was  or- 
dained, and  entered  upon  his  duties.  By  and  by, 
the  bishop  died,  and  Augustine  became  bishop 
of  Hippo  in  his  place.  There  he  continued  forty 
years,  all  the  remainder  of  his  life. 

287 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

Hippo  is  still  a  populated  place,  in  Algiers,  two 
hundred  miles  west  of  Tunis.  The  neighborhood 
is  singularly  suitable  for  the  observation  of 
eclipses  of  the  sun,  and  thereby  invites  the  visits 
of  both  English  and  American  astronomers.  An 
aqueduct  of  the  time  of  Hadrian  remains  from  the 
town  which  Augustine  knew.  The  city  in  his  day 
had  a  wall  about  it,  and  its  inhabitants  were  sixty 
thousand.  The  great  Basilica,  his  cathedral, 
stood  on  high  ground  in  the  midst  of  the  city, 
among  almond  and  orange  trees,  looking  towards 
the  sea  and  the  far  hills  of  Tunis.  In  1890,  Car- 
dinal Lavigerie  consecrated  a  new  cathedral  on 
the  site  of  the  old,  naming  it  in  memory  of  him 
who  is  still  spoken  of,  even  by  the  Mohammedan 
inhabitants,  as  the  Great  Christian. 

There  Augustine  went  about  his  business  as 
a  bishop.  In  all  simplicity,  without  ostentation, 
in  a  day  when  bishops  lived  like  princes,  he  min- 
istered to  the  fishermen  of  Hippo.  With  much 
strictness  of  personal  abstinence,  he  maintained 
a  modest  hospitality.  A  sentence  carved  on  the 
table  in  his  dining-room  reminded  his  guests  that 
as  for  those  who  were  disposed  to  speak  unfriendly 
of  their  neighbors,  their  room  was  better  than 
their  company.  He  gathered  his  clergy  about 
him,  to  live  under  his  own  roof.  He  required 
them  to  follow  that  ascetic  life  in  which  he  set 

288 


AUGUSTINE 

them  an  example.  He  forbade  them  to  have  pri- 
vate property,  or  to  be  married.  He  set  forth  for 
their  guidance  a  rule  of  life,  adapted  to  those  who 
having  their  daily  occupation  in  the  world  were 
intent  on  the  improvement  of  their  souls.  In  the 
eleventh  century,  this  rule,  or  what  was  thought 
to  be  this  rule,  was  adopted  by  the  clerical  order 
of  Augustinians,  the  Austin  Canons,  in  whose 
house  at  Erfurt  Martin  Luther  studied  the  Bible 
and  prepared  himself  to  undertake  the  German 
Reformation. 

In  the  midst  of  these  quiet  labors  came  three 
determining  events:  two  controversies  and  a  great 
calamity. 

'  The  controversies,  one  with  the  Donatists,  the 
other  with  the  Pelagians,  were  characteristic 
of  the  Christianity  of  the  West.  The  Western 
Church  had  regarded  the  Arian  Debate  with  per- 
plexity and  impatience.  The  discussion  had  been 
carried  on  in  Greek,  a  language  with  which  the 
West  was  imperfectly  acquainted.  The  General 
Council  at  Nicsea  under  Constantine,  which  pro- 
claimed the  Nicene  faith,  and  the  General  Coun- 
cil at  Constantinople  under  Theodosius,  which 
confirmed  it,  had  been  remote  from  the  concerns 
of  Europe.  There  were  but  seven  Western  bishops 
at  Nicsea,  and  none  at  all  at  Constantinople. 

Moreover,  the  theme  of  the  debate  had  been 
289 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

foreign  to  the  active  and  practical  interests  of  the 
Western  mind.  The  Eastern  bishops  of  eminence 
were  for  the  most  part  theologians,  of  a  specu- 
lative habit  of  thought;  the  eminent  bishops  of 
the  West  were  for  the  most  part  ecclesiastics, 
administrative  persons.  Thus  while  the  Eastern 
Church  was  vexed  with  heresies,  arising  from  dif- 
ferences in  theology,  the  Western  Church  was 
vexed  with  schisms,  arising  from  differences  con- 
cerning organization.  And  when  a  notable  heresy 
did  appear  in  the  West,  —  the  Pelagian,  —  it  was 
concerned  not  with  the  nature  of  God,  but  with 
the  nature  of  man:  it  had  to  do  with  practical 
human  life. 

Against  the  erection  of  a  complete  and  exclu- 
sive organization,  the  Donatists  had  long  since 
protested.  They  had  now  been  a  separate  church 
for  nearly  two  hundred  years.  They  were  espe- 
cially strong  in  Africa.  There  were  Donatist 
churches  side  by  side  with  the  Catholic  churches 
in  Hippo.  So  intimate  was  the  contention  that 
no  Donatist  woman  would  bake  a  loaf  of  bread 
for  a  Catholic.  And  there  was  frequent  violence. 

Augustine  at  first  addressed  himself  to  the  re- 
conciliation of  this  inveterate  division.  But  the 
original  arguments  for  and  against  were  now  so 
entangled  with  prejudices,  so  complicated  by 
years  of  abusive  controversy,  and  so  lost  under 

S90 


AUGUSTINE 

an  increasing  burden  of  fresh  grievances,  that  no 
friendly  settlement  seemed  possible.  The  cruel- 
ties of  imperial  soldiers  against  the  Donatists  had 
been  answered  with  fierce  reprisals.  In  Au- 
gustine's own  time  and  neighborhood,  one  Cath- 
olic bishop  had  been  ducked  in  a  pond,  and 
another  had  been  beaten  about  the  head  with 
the  pieces  of  his  broken  altar.  Augustine  himself 
was  in  frequent  peril. 

In  his  books  against  the  Donatists,  Augustine 
shows  the  effects  of  this  contention.  First  of  all 
great  Christian  teachers,  he  formally  defended 
the  persecution  of  heretics.  The  shedding  of  the 
blood  of  the  Priscillianists  had  indeed  been  un- 
dertaken at  the  instigation  of  bishops,  but  other 
and  better  bishops  had  deplored  it.  Here,  how- 
ever, were  heretics  destroying  churches  and  as- 
saulting clergy.  Their  evil  must  be  met  with 
evil.  Their  violence  must  be  resisted  with  vio- 
lence. Augustine  tried  in  vain  to  keep  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  He  was  dis- 
posed to  love  his  enemies.  But  he  hated  the 
Donatists.  They  seemed  to  him  to  be  outside 
the  limits  of  Christian  forbearance.  He  advised 
treating  them  as  thieves  and  robbers  should  be 
treated.  In  a  writing  entitled  "De  Correctione 
Donatistanum,"  he  held  that  the  civil  power  ought 
to  restrain  schism.  He  was  the  first  to  translate 

291 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

the  hospitality  of  a  parable  into  the  hostility  of 
a  religious  war,  and  to  find  a  sanction  for  perse- 
cution in  the  words  "Compel  them  to  come  in." 
He  might  as  well  have  taken  for  a  text,  "Rise, 
Peter,  kill  and  eat!"  The  principle  proceeded 
easily  from  the  punishment  of  wrong  acting  to 
the  punishment  of  wrong  thinking.  Augustine 
became  an  apostle  of  intolerance.  Thus  the  con- 
troversy with  the  Donatists  continued  until  all 
the  clamorous  voices  were  silenced,  in  the  year 
when  Augustine  died,  by  the  victorious  invasion 
of  the  Vandals. 

The  heresy  of  the  Pelagians  turned  upon  the 
question,  How  may  we  be  saved  from  sin?  An 
answer  was  given  by  a  Briton,  named  Pelagius. 
He  said,  "We  may  be  saved  by  being  good."  He 
quoted  the  words  of  Jesus,  "If  thou  wilt  enter 
into  life,  keep  the  commandments."  Anybody, 
he  said,  can  do  that,  if  he  tries  hard  enough.  The 
church  is  not  necessary,  the  sacraments  are  not 
necessary,  the  grace  of  God  is  not  necessary. 
These  are  all  helpful,  but  not  essential.  Be  good: 
this  is  the  desire  of  God,  and  it  is  possible  to  every 
child  of  God. 

The  matter  became  a  subject  of  controversy 
in  connection  with  the  letters  of  congratulation 
which  were  written  to  Demetrias,  a  young  Roman 
lady  who  had  entered  the  monastic  life.  Jerome 


AUGUSTINE 

said  that  this  was  the  most  important  event  in  the 
history  of  Rome  since  the  defeat  of  Hannibal. 
But  Pelagius  was  not  so  enthusiastic.  He  ac- 
knowledged the  excellences  of  the  single  life,  but 
observed  that  there  was  danger  of  overestimat- 
ing them.  Men  and  women  could  be  holy,  if  they 
would,  under  any  conditions.  The  natural  life 
was  as  acceptable  to  God  as  the  ascetic  life.  He 
praised  the  innate  goodness  of  human  nature,  and 
protested  against  the  theory  that  man's  will  is 
totally  corrupt. 

The  letter  precipitated  a  general  discussion,  and 
Pelagius,  a  sweet-tempered,  simple-hearted  per- 
son, who  in  his  own  experience  and  observation 
had  encountered  much  more  good  than  ill,  found 
that  he  had  drawn  upon  himself  the  fire  of  the 
great  guns  of  Augustine. 

Never  has  the  personal  equation  entered  more 
evidently  into  the  progress  of  thought.  To  Au- 
gustine, with  his  hot  African  nature,  remember- 
ing his  own  participation  in  the  wickedness  of 
the  world,  the  supreme  fact  of  human  life  is  sin. 
Taking  his  clue  from  expressions  of  St.  Paul, 
he  traced  it  back  to  the  first  man.  The  spring 
of  humanity  was  poisoned  at  its  source.  Every 
human  being  is  born  bad.  The  race  is  lost,  and 
every  member  of  it,  by  nature  inclined  to  evil, 
is  not  only  unable  to  do  good,  but  is  doomed,  in 

293 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

consequence  of  this  inability,  to  everlasting  pun- 
ishment. 

Accordingly,  salvation  cannot  come  by  any  ef- 
fort of  our  own.  It  must  be  derived  from  without. 
In  his  teaching  as  to  the  source  of  salvation, 
Augustine  presented  his  two  characteristic  doc- 
trines. 

The  first  doctrine  was  that  salvation  comes  by 
grace.  Grace  is  help  from  God.  To  a  part  —  a 
small  part  —  of  our  doomed  race,  by  reason  of 
the  act  of  His  inscrutable  will,  God  gives  grace, 
and  they  are  saved.  The  sacrifice  of  Christ  upon 
the  cross  makes  grace  available,  but  it  becomes 
applicable  to  us  not  by  any  act  of  ours,  not  of 
ourselves.  The  saved  were  chosen  of  God,  elect, 
predestinated  to  eternal  life,  before  the  world 
began. 

The  second  doctrine  was  that  grace  comes  by 
the  church.  It  cannot  be  had  outside  the  church. 
It  is  a  subtle  something  which  is  imparted  by 
the  sacraments.  Outside  the  church,  then,  among 
the  schismatics,  among  the  Donatists,  is  no  salva- 
tion. All  the  heathen  are  lost.  Infants  dying 
unbaptized  are  not  saved;  they  may  be  punished 
with  some  measure  of  mercy,  and  be  damned 
with  a  somewhat  mitigated  damnation,  but  they 
cannot  enter  into  heaven.  The  church  is  in  the 
world  as  the  ark  floated  on  the  flood.  Unless  we 

294 


AUGUSTINE 

get  in  and  stay  in,  we  shall  certainly  be  drowned 
in  an  ocean  of  everlasting  fire. 

The  Pelagians  said  that  Augustine's  doctrines 
were  immoral.  If  man  has  no  free  will,  then  he 
has  no  responsibility,  and  there  is  no  difference 
between  vice  and  virtue.  They  said  that  Au- 
gustine's doctrines  were  blasphemous.  The  con- 
demnation of  a  race  for  the  sins  of  one  would  be 
a  horrible  injustice,  not  to  be  attributed  to  God. 
They  said  that  Augustine  had  been  a  Manichee, 
and  had  believed  in  a  bad  god,  and  had  never 
been  converted.  But  the  church  went  with  Au- 
gustine. In  the  breaking-up  of  the  Roman  Em- 
pire by  the  invasion  of  the  barbarians,  in  the 
violence  and  misery  of  the  time,  in  the  preva- 
lence of  evil,  in  the  face  of  the  wicked  world,  he 
seemed  a  true  interpreter  of  human  life. 

Toward  the  end  of  his  long  career  Augustine 
did  a  curious  and  interesting  thing.  He  pub- 
lished a  good-sized  book  called  "Retractations." 
In  it  he  confessed  the  errors  of  his  teaching.  Con- 
cerning this  matter  and  that  he  had  changed  his 
mind,  in  the  better  light  of  experience  and  truth. 
It  was  characteristic  of  his  habitual  humility  and 
honesty.  He  did  not  retract,  however,  the  posi- 
tions which  he  took  against  the  Donatists  and  the 
Pelagians.  By  virtue  of  these  positions,  he  was 
the  founder  of  Latin  Christianity. 

295 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

At  last,  in  the  midst  of  these  controversies, 
came  the  great  calamity  of  the  fall  of  Rome. 

Gradually,  step  by  step,  the  barbarians  had 
passed  over  the  boundaries  of  the  Danube  and 
the  Rhine  into  the  empire.  Constantine  had  held 
them  in  check,  but  after  him  they  came  in  greater 
might  than  ever.  They  presented  themselves  as 
settlers,  and  were  received  as  allies.  These  two 
aspects  of  their  invasion  dimmed  the  sight  of  the 
Romans  regarding  the  tremendous  changes  which 
were  taking  place.  Theodosius  mastered  them 
as  long  as  his  strong  reign  continued.  After  him 
his  son  Honorius  reigned  with  incredible  indif- 
ference in  the  West,  and  the  barbarian  Stilicho 
became  his  minister  of  state.  And  after  Stilicho 
came  Alaric. 

Jerome  writes  in  409:  "Innumerable  savage 
tribes  have  overrun  all  parts  of  Gaul.  The  whole 
country  between  the  Alps  and  the  Pyrenees,  be- 
tween the  Rhine  and  the  ocean,  has  been  laid 
waste  by  Quadi,  Vandals,  Sarmatians,  Alans, 
Gepidi,  Herules,  Saxons,  Burgundians,  AUemans 
and,  alas  for  the  common  weal,  even  the  hordes 
of  the  Pannonians.  The  once  noble  city  of  Mainz 
has  been  captured  and  destroyed.  In  its  church 
many  thousands  have  been  massacred.  The  peo- 
ple of  Worms  have  been  extirpated  after  a  long 
siege.  The  powerful  city  of  Rheims,  the  Ambiani 

S96 


AUGUSTINE 

[near  Amiens],  the  Altrabtae  [near  Arras],  the 
Belgians  on  the  outskirts  of  the  world,  Tournay, 
Speyer  and  Strassburg  have  fallen  to  the  Ger- 
mans. The  provinces  of  Aquitaine,  and  of  the 
Nine  Nations,  of  Lyons  and  Narbonne,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  cities,  have  been  laid  waste. 
Those  whom  the  sword  spares  without,  famine 
ravages  within.  I  cannot  speak  of  Toulouse  with- 
out tears.  I  am  silent  about  other  places,  that 
I  may  not  seem  to  despair  of  God's  mercy." 

In  410  Alaric  the  Goth  besieged  Rome  and  took 
it.  The  eternal  city,  the  immemorial  metropolis  of 
the  world,  the  invincible  and  inviolable  fortress  of 
civilization,  fell  and  was  plundered  by  the  Goths. 

By  the  emperor  Honorius,  in  his  court  at  Ra- 
venna, the  news  was  received  with  that  amaz- 
ing indifference  which  was  his  most  marked  char- 
acteristic. He  is  said  to  have  shown  in  his  career 
only  two  signs  of  any  interest  in  life:  he  had  a 
strong  sense  of  the  importance  of  keeping  his  im- 
perial person  out  of  danger,  and  he  had  remark- 
able success  in  raising  hens.  Messengers  brought 
the  emperor  the  awful  news.  "Rome,"  they 
cried,  "is  destroyed!"  "What!"  he  said,  "only 
this  morning  she  was  feeding  out  of  my  hand"; 
and  when  they  made  him  understand  that  it 
was  the  imperial  city  of  which  they  spoke, 
he  replied,   greatly   relieved,    "Oh,   I  thought 

297 


THE  EARLY  CHURCH 

you  meant  my  favorite  hen,  of  the  same 
name!" 

But  to  Jerome  at  Bethlehem,  Augustine  at  Hip- 
po, and  all  other  thoughtful  Romans,  it  seemed 
to  be,  as  indeed  it  was,  the  end  of  the  age. 

Then  Augustine  wrote  his  greatest  work,  the 
"  City  of  God."  The  purpose  was  to  show  that 
though  the  city  of  the  world  had  fallen,  the  City 
of  God  stands  strong  forever.  This  writing  is 
in  twenty-two  books.  Ten  are  negative,  showing 
the  falsity  of  paganism:  five  to  disprove  that  the 
present  prosperity  of  man  is  dependent  on  the 
pagan  gods;  five  to  deny  that  they  have  anything 
to  do  with  man's  prosperity  hereafter.  Even  in 
the  fifth  century,  two  hundred  years  after  the 
conversion  of  Constantine,  paganism  was  still  of 
sufficient  importance  to  call  for  this  long  and 
laborious  refutation.  The  other  twelve  books  are 
positive,  setting  forth  the  truth  of  the  Christian 
religion:  four  about  its  origin,  four  about  its 
growth,  four  to  set  in  contrast  the  cities  of  the 
world  secular  and  temporal,  and  the  church,  the 
city  of  the  world  spiritual  and  eternal. 

With  this  work,  the  Early  Church,  and  the 
Roman  world  with  it,  spoke  its  last  word.  After 
that,  amidst  the  confusions  and  distresses  of  the 
barbarian  invasion  of  the  empire,  the  learning 
and  literature  of  the  time  lapsed,  for  the  most 


AUGUSTINE 

part,  into  the  making  of  copies  and  compilations 
of  previous  opinions.  Augustine's  "City  of  God  " 
served  as  a  treasure  house  of  theological  material 
throughout  the  Middle  Ages.  It  was  a  store  of 
thought  by  which  men  lived  in  times  of  intel- 
lectual famine. 

In  429,  the  Vandals  under  Genseric  invaded 
Africa.  Down  they  came  over  "the  shining  fields 
which  had  been  the  granary  of  Rome."  In  the 
common  destruction  of  the  country,  the  force  of 
the  invasion  fell  terribly  upon  the  churches.  When 
the  Vandals  came,  Africa  had  five  hundred  bish- 
ops; twenty  years  after  only  eighteen  dioceses 
had  survived. 

The  invaders  besieged  Hippo.  Augustine  was 
in  his  seventy-fifth  year.  In  the  third  month  of 
the  siege  (430)  he  fell  into  a  mortal  sickness.  The 
last  of  the  fathers,  the  last  of  the  great  Romans, 
lay  dying,  as  the  empire,  wounded  beyond  re- 
covery, lay  dying  beside  him.  Outside  the  sick- 
room was  the  noise  of  fighting,  and  the  shouts  of 
the  besiegers.  Thus  the  city  of  his  long  service 
faded  from  Augustine's  eyes,  and  he  entered  into 
that  other  city  of  which  he  wrote,  the  city  of  his 
hopes  and  prayers,  the  divine  city,  founded,  as 
he  said,  on  earth,  but  eternal  in  the  heavens. 


THE  END 


APPENDIX 

TABLES  OF  DATES 
I 

THE  BOMAN  EMPERORS,  FROM  AUGUSTUS  TO  AUGUSTULUS 

The  Pagan  Empire 


B.C. 

27.  Augustus. 

A.D. 

14.  Tiberius. 

37.  Gaius. 

41.  Claudius. 

54.  Nero. 


A.D. 

«Q  «Q    I  Galba,  Otho, 

^^'^^-    jvitellius. 

69.  Vespasian. 

79.  Titus. 

81.  Domitian. 

96.  Nerva. 

98.  Trajan. 


117.  Hadrian. 

138.  Antoninus  Pius. 

161.  Marcus  Aurelius. 


180.  Commodus. 

193.  Septimius  Severus. 


m 


211.  Caracalla. 

218.  Elagabalus. 

222.  Alexander  Severus. 

235.  Maximinus. 

238.  Gordian. 

244.  Philip. 

249.  Decius. 

251.  Gallus. 

253.  Valerian. 


270.  Aurelian. 

284.  Diocletian,  with   Max- 

imian. 
305.  Constantius  and  Gale- 

rius. 
311.  Constantine  and  Licin- 

ius. 


SOI 


APPENDIX 

The  Christian  Empire 

324. 

Constantine. 

(  Constantine  II, 

337. 

i  Constantius  II, 

(_  Constans. 

350. 

Constantius  II. 

361. 

Julian. 

363. 

Jovia,n. 

West 

East 

364. 

Valentinian  I. 

364. 

Valens. 

375. 

Gratian  and  Valentin- 

379. 

Theodosius  I. 

ian  n. 

383. 

Valentinian  11. 

392. 

Theodosius  I. 

395. 

Honorius. 

395. 

Arcadius. 

423. 

Valentinian  III. 

408. 

Theodosius  II. 

455. 

Maximus. 

450. 

Marcian. 

455. 

Avitus. 

457. 

Majorian. 

457. 

Leo  I. 

461. 

Severus. 

467. 

Anthemius. 

472. 

Olybrius. 

473. 

Glycerins. 

474. 

Julius  Nepos. 

474. 

Leon., 

475. 

Romulus  Augustulus. 

THE  PERSECUTIONS,  FROM  THE  FIRE  IN  ROME  TO  THE  EDICT 
OF  MILAN 

Local  Persecutions 
Under  Nero,  64. 
Under  Domitian,  95. 

In  Bithynia  (Pliny  and  Trajan),  about  113. 
Martyrdom  of  Ignatius,  117. 

302 


APPENDIX 

Martyrdom  of  Polycarp,  155.  I 

Martyrs  of  Lyons,  177. 

Scillitan  Martyrs,  180. 

Martyrs  of  Carthage  (Perpetua,  Felicitas),  202. 

General  Persecutions 

After  more  than  forty  years  of  peace  the  First  General  Per- 
secution under  Decius,  249-251,  under  Valerian,  253-260: 
ten  years. 

After  more  than  forty  years  of  peace  again,  the  Second  Gen- 
eral Persecution,  under  Diocletian  and  Galerius,  303-311: 
ten  years. 

Edict  of  Milan  (decreeing  toleration),  313. 

m 

THE  ADVANCE  OF  THE  BARBARIANS 

Marcomanni  and  Quadi  cross  the  Danube,  overrun  Pan- 

nonia,  and  are  driven  back  by  Marcus  Aurelius,  174. 
Alamanni  and  Franks  cross  the  Rhine,  236. 
Goths  cross  the  Danube,  overrun  the  Balkans,  defeat  and 

kill  Decius,  251.  In  the  reign  of  Gallienus,  260-268,  they 

raid  Asia  Minor;  they  sack  Athens,  Corinth  and  Sparta. 
Dacia  is  abandoned  by  Aurelian,  270-275. 
Alamanni  and  Franks  driven  back  by  Probus,  276,  by  Con- 

stantine,  306-312,  by  Julian,  356-360,  and  by  Valentin- 

ian  I,  364-375. 
Picts  and  Scots  attack  Britain  from  the  north,  867-370, 

Saxons  from  the  south. 
Goths,  pressed  by  Huns,  settle  south  of  the  Danube,  defeat 

and  kill  Valens,  378,  and  advance  to  Constantinople,  but 

are  conciliated  by  Theodosius. 
Throughout  fourth  century,  barbarians  are  gradually  settling 

south  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube,  enlisting  in  Roman 

armies,  and  gaining  places  of  power  in  imperial  courts. 

Rufinus  the  Goth  is  prime  minister  of  Arcadius,  Stilicho 

the  Vandal  is  prime  minister  of  Honorius. 
Britain  is  abandoned  early  in  fifth  century,  about  410. 
Alaric  the  Visigoth  crosses  the  Alps  and  takes  Rome,  410. 
Visigoths  settle  in  Gaul;  Vandals  settle  in  Spain. 

303 


APPENDIX 

Gaiseric  (Genseric)  the  Vandal  conquers  Roman  Africa,  429. 

Attila  the  Hun,  ruler  of  northern  and  central  Europe,  in- 
vades Gaul  and  Italy,  but  is  defeated  at  Chalons,  451. 

Ricimer  the  Suebe  rules  Italy,  appointing  four  successive 
emperors,  456-472. 

Orestes  the  Pannonian  makes  his  own  son  emperor  under  the 
title  Romulus,  called  "Augustulus,"  475. 

Odoacer  the  Rugian  deposes  Augustulus  and  brings  to  an 
end  the  succession  of  Roman  emperors,  476. 

IV 

HERETICS  AND  SCHISMATICS,  FROM  CERINTHUS  TO  PELAGIUS 

Ebionites.  Judaic-Christians,  accepting  the  Gospel  but  keep- 
ing the  Law  also.  Adding  to  the  Law  the  practice  of  asceti- 
cism and  "doctrines  of  angels,"  they  were  precursors  of 
Gnosticism.  Like-minded  with  them  was  Cerinthus,  late 
in  first  century. 

Gnostics.  Matter  essentially  evil,  God  infinitely  remote. 
God  and  the  world  connected  by  inferior  divine  beings 
called  seons.  Simon  Magus  in  Samaria.  Basilides,  Valen- 
tinus  (d.  160).  Marcion  in  Rome  upheld  the  Gospel 
against  the  Law,  accounting  himself  a  champion  of  St. 
Paul. 

Docetics.  The  idea  that  matter  is  evil  contradicted  the  doc- 
trine of  the  incarnation :  Jesus  had  only  the  appearance  of 
a  body,  and  of  a  human  life. 

Montanists,  They  expected  speedy  end  of  the  world.  Their 
prophets  spoke,  they  said,  by  immediate  inspiration:  no 
need  of  any  ordination.  Opposed  secularism  and  formal- 
ism: Montanus  and  TertuUian  (d.  222). 

Adoptionists.  Jesus  is  God  by  adoption,  not  by  incarnation. 
God  entered  into  Him  at  baptism,  departed  at  crucifixion. 

Sabellians,  ModaHsts,  Patripassians.  Father  and  Son  and 
Holy  Ghost  are  only  names  of  God,  indicating  divine 
aspects  and  activities.  Opponents  said  that  the  doctrine 
implied  the  suffering  and  death  of  God.  Paul  of  Samosata 
(260)  taught  that  Jesus  by  His  unique  goodness  rose  to 
divine  dignity.  Those  who  held  the  theory  that  the  names 
Father  and  Son  signify  only  two  different  relations  of  God 
304 


APPENDIX 

to  the  world  were  also  called  Monarchians.  The  most 
famous  teacher  of  this  doctrine  was  Sabellius. 

Novatians.  In  Rome,  after  Decian  persecution,  they  held 
that  Christians  who  had  lapsed  should  not  be  restored  to 
membership  in  the  church.  They  formed  separate  socie- 
ties. 

Meletians.  In  Alexandria,  after  Diocletian  persecution,  they 
insisted  on  subjecting  the  lapsed  to  severe  penance.  They 
also  formed  societies  outside  the  church. 

Donatists.  In  Carthage,  after  Diocletian  persecution,  they 
refused  to  recognize  clergy  who  had  surrendered  sacred 
books.  Condemned  at  Council  of  Aries  (314)  they  estab- 
lished churches  of  their  own. 

Arians.  The  Son  is  a  divine  being,  existing  before  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world  but  not  from  eternity,  having  been  cre- 
ated by  the  Father.  Arius  of  Alexandria  condemned  by 
Council  of  Nicsea  (325).  The  Nicene  fathers  held  that  the 
Son  is  "of  one  substance"  (homoousios)  with  the  Father. 

Eomoiousians.  They  held  that  the  Son  is  "of  like  substance" 
with  the  Father. 

AnomoeanSy  Eunomeans.  They  held  that  the  Son  is  "of 
unlike  substance'*  with  the  Father.  Thus  taught  AStius 
of  Antioch  (d.  360)  and  his  pupil  Eunomius  (d.  392). 

Semi' Arians,  Macedonians.  Named  from  Macedonius,  bishop 
of  Constantinople  (d.  360).  Orthodox  as  to  the  Son,  but 
Arian  as  to  the  Spirit.  The  name  is  also  applied  to  those 
who  said  "the  Son  is  like  the  Father." 

Apollinarians.  Christ  human  in  body  and  soul,  but  the 
human  mind  in  Him  was  replaced  by  the  divine  mind. 
Condemned  by  Council  of  Constantinople  (381). 

Pelagians.  Named  from  Pelagius  who  came  from  Britain  to 
Rome  early  in  fifth  century.  He  upheld  the  freedom  of  the 
will  against  the  doctrine  of  total  depravity  taught  by  Au- 
gustine. His  motto  was  "If  I  ought,  I  can."  The  doctrine 
was  condemned  by  Council  of  Ephesus  (431). 

Mithraism.  A  Persian  religion,  rival  of  Christianity.  Mithra, 
a  sun-god,  mediator  between  God  and  man.  Rites  similar 
to  baptism,  confirmation,  communion;  also  Sunday.  For 
men  only,  but  annexed  cult  of  Magna  Mater  for  women. 

305 


APPENDIX 

Neoplaionism.  A  Greek  philosophy,  rival  of  Christian  the- 
ology. Ammonius  Saccas,  Plotinus  (d.  270),  Porphyry 
(d.  304).  The  vision  of  God  attained  by  asceticism  and 
meditation:  mysticism.  Brought  into  Christianity  by 
"Dionysius  the  Areopagite  "  (about  476). 

ManichoBism.  Another  Persian  religion.  Dualism :  life  a  war 
between  good  and  evil.  For  help  of  man  came  Buddha, 
Zoroaster,  Jesus  —  and  Mani.  Victory  by  asceticism. 
Augustine  tried  this  religion,  but  abandoned  it. 

V 

THE  FATHERS,  PROM  IGNATIUS  TO  AUGUSTINE 

Most  dates  in  this  table  before  258,  and  most  birth-dates 
after  that,  are  conjectural  and  approximate. 


Ignatius,  117. 
Papias,  60-135. 
Polycarp,  69-155. 


Justin  Martyr,  100-168. 
Irenseus,  130-180. 


n 


Clement  of  Alexandria,  150- 

215. 
TertulUan,  155-222. 


Origen,  185-254. 
Cyprian,  200-258. 


m 


Eusebius  of  Csesarea,  260- 

340. 
Hilary  of  Poictiers,  300-367. 
Athanasius,  293-373. 
Basil,  330-379. 
Ulfilas,  311-383. 
Cyril  of  Jerusalem,  315-386. 
Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  329- 


Gregory  of  Nyssa,  331- 

396. 
Ambrose,  340-397. 
Martin,  316-400. 
Chrysostom,  345-407. 
Jerome,  340-420. 
Cassian,  360-435. 
Augustine,  354-430. 


INDEX 


Alaric,  takes  Rome,  297. 

Alexandria,  school  of,  90;  its  primi- 
tive mamier  of  electing  bishops, 
95. 

Ambrose,  presides  over  episcopal 
election,  180-82;  made  bishop 
of  Milan,  182,  183;  contends 
against  Symmachus  as  to  Altar 
of  Victory,  186-88;  contends 
against  Justina  as  to  a  church 
for  Arians,  192,  196-201;  re- 
fuses to  rebuild  synagogue,  195; 
improves  church  music,  198, 
199;  discovers  two  saints,  200, 
201 ;  compels  Theodosius  to  do 
penance,  201-05;  forbids  him 
a  place  in  chancel,  205,  206; 
attracts  Augustine,  282,  283; 
and  baptizes  him,  285. 

Ammianus  Marcellinus,  his  judg- 
ment of  the  contemporary 
world,  154. 

Anicetus,  confers  with  Polycarp 
as  to  date  of  Easter,  50,  51. 

Antioch,  its  pagan  river  and  its 
Christian  mountain,  208,  210. 

Antony,  pioneer  of  monasticism, 
153 ;  life  of,  by  Athanasius,  283 ; 
teaches  his  rules,  155,  156;  vis- 
its the  hermit  Paul,  263. 

Apostolic  Constitutions,  117;  ac- 
count of  service  in,  118-20. 

Arians,  theology  of,  125-128; 
their  doctrine  condemned  at 
Nicaea,  129-33;  councils  of, 
144;  led  by  Constantius,  145; 
and  by  Valens,  147;  appealed 
to  by  Athanasius,  148,  149; 
opposed  by  Ambrose,  191-201; 

307 


their  great  bishop,  Ulfilas,  193, 
194;  processions  of,  in  Con- 
stantinople, 229. 

Arius,  in  Alexandria,  127;  his 
doctrine  a  kind  of  polytheism, 
135;  is  excommunicated,  136; 
dies,  143. 

Athanasian  Creed,  149. 

Athanasius,  his  education,  139; 
at  Nicsea,  132;  bishop  of 
Alexandria,  132;  against  Mele- 
tians,  140;  accused  of  sacrilege, 
141;  and  of  murder,  141;  ban- 
ished, 142;  recalled,  145;  in  Ni- 
trian  deserts,  146;  "Against 
the  world,"  146;  discusses 
terms  used  in  debate,  147-49. 

Augustine,  his  "  Confessions,'* 
272,  273;  his  mother,  Monica, 
274;  at  college  in  Carthage, 
275;  marries,  276;  reads  Cic- 
ero's "Hortensius,"  276;  be- 
comes a  Manichee,  277-79; 
teaches  in  Carthage,  279;  and 
in  Rome,  280;  and  in  Milan, 
280;  reads  Aristotle,  281;  be- 
comes a  Neoplatonist,  281;  puts 
away  his  wife,  282;  is  attracted 
by  Ambrose,  282,  283;  is  con- 
verted, 284;  and  baptized,  285; 
death  of  Monica,  286;  returns 
to  Africa,  287;  becomes  bishop 
of  Hippo,  287-89;  his  "rules," 
289;  attacks  Donatists,  290- 
92;  attacks  Pelagians,  292-95; 
his  "Retractions,"  295;  writes 
the  "City  of  God,"  298;  dies 
while  Vandab  besiege  Hippo, 
299. 


INDEX 


Barbarians,  threatening,  2;  in- 
vading, 152,  153;  their  advance 
described  by  Jerome,  296, 
297. 

Basil,  his  education,  157,  158; 
at  University  of  Athens,  159 
visits  Antonian  and  Pachomian 
communities,  160;  retreat  with 
Gregory  at  Annesi,  161,  162; 
his  letters,  163,  164;  his  rules, 
164-66;  determines  Eastern 
monasticism,  166;  finds  Julian 
trying  to  make  the  world 
pagan,  168;  and  Valens  trying 
to  make  it  Arian,  169;  be- 
comes bishop  of  Csesarea,  170; 
defies  prefect  and  emperor,  171 ; 
his  treatment  of  the  two  Grego- 
ries,  172. 

Benedict,  prescribes  the  reading 
of  the  "Collations"  of  Cassian, 
259. 

Caecilian,  elected  bishop  of  Car- 
thage, 108. 

Canon  of  scripture,  82. 

Carthage,  martyrs  of,  54,  55;  in 
time  of  Tertullian,  100;  in  time 
of  Cyprian,  102;  Donatists  in, 
108;  in  time  of  Augustine,  275. 

Cassian,  his  education,  254; 
makes  pilgrimage  to  Bethle- 
hem, 254;  listens  to  monastic 
sermons,  255,  257;  his  "Insti- 
tutes," 258,  259. 

Celsus,  attacks  Christians,  67- 
69. 

Chrysostom,  his  pagan  master 
Libanius,  209;  his  Christian 
master,  Diodorus,  210;  or- 
dained, 211;  his  appearance, 
211;  his  chief  interests,  212;  his 
sermons  on  manners,  213,  214; 
his  sermons  on  the  Statues, 
216-21;  his  removal  to  Con- 


stantinople, 224;  arouses  cleri- 
cal enmity,  226;  and  social  en- 
mity, 227;  prayer  of,  228;  his 
dealings  with  Arians,  229;  his 
sermons  on  Eutropius,  229-31; 
deposed  at  Synod  of  the  Oak, 
233;  saved  by  earthquake,  234; 
opposed  by  Eudoxia,  235;  his 
deposition  confirmed,  236;  goes 
into  exile,  237;  at  Csesarea,  238; 
sent  into  remoter  exile,  239; 
his  death,  240. 

Church  building,  description  of, 
in  fourth  century,  113,  114. 

Church  service,  description  of, 
in  the  fourth  century,  114-20. 

Cities  of  Roman  world,  3,  4;  life 
in,  17. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  his  school 
and  his  writings,  89,  90. 

Constantine,  his  conversion,  121- 
25;  convenes  Council  of  Nicsea, 
129;  and  appears  in  it,  132; 
banishes  Athanasius,  142;  is 
baptized  on  deathbed,  144. 

Constantius,  emperor,  144;  his 
dealings  with  Athanasius,  145. 

Creed,  in  Irenseus,  81;  at  Nicaea, 
135, 136;  in  Arian  councils,  145; 
Athanasian,  149. 

Cyprian,  the  father  of  ecclesias- 
tics, 95;  affirms  right  of  Church 
to  absolve,  103,  104;  denies 
right  of  churchmen  to  secede, 
104, 105;  writes  book  on  Unity, 
106;  his  exaltation  of  the  epis- 
copal office,  107;  his  martyr- 
dom, 58. 

Decian  persecution,  55-57. 

Demetrius,  how  he  became  bish- 
op of  Alexandria,  95. 

Diocletian,  persecution,  59-61. 

Diodorus,  teacher  of  Chrysostom, 
210. 


308 


INDEX 


Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  88, 
89. 

Donatists,  their  origin  after  Dio- 
cletian persecution,  107;  op- 
pose Ceecilian,  108;  stand  for 
purity  of  Church,  109;  appeal 
to  Constantine,  109;  opposed 
by  Augustine,  290-92. 

East  and  West  compared,  3,  241. 

Edict  of  Milan,  9.  61,  124. 

Emperor,  power  of,  7,  8;  control 
of,  by  army,  8;  four  good,  9; 
twenty  bad,  9;  again  four 
good,  10;  theological,  10,  11. 

Epicureans,  their  denials,  19,  20. 

Eudoxia,  her  marriage,  223;  her 
quarrel  with  Eutropius,  230; 
her  silver  statue,  235,  237. 

Eusebius  of  Csesarea,  his  descrip- 
tion of  a  church,  111-14;  his 
account  of  conversion  of  Con- 
stantine, 121. 

Eustochium,  Jerome's  letter  to, 
267. 

Eutropius,  his  rise  from  slavery, 

^  222,  223;  his  seizure  of  Chrys- 
ostom,  224;  his  fall,  229-32. 

Gnostics,  their  two  diflBculties, 
73,  74;  fanatics  among  them, 
75;  Valentinus,  76;  Marcion, 
77;  confuted  by  Irenaeus,  78, 
79. 

Gregory  of  Nazianzum,  father 
and  mother'of ,  158, 159;  at  Uni- 
versity of  Athens,  159;  at  An- 
nesi,  160,  161;  goes  to  help  his 
father,  167;  made  bishop  of 
Sasima,  172;  in  Constantinople, 
174;  installed  by  Theodosius, 
176;  presides  over  Council  of 
Constantinople,  176,  177;  re- 
turns to  his  farm,  178,  179. 

Gregory  of  Nyssa,  172. 


Helvidius,  attacks  asceticism, 
and  is  answered  by  Jerome, 
265. 

Heresy,  as  partial  truth,  72,  73. 

"Hexapla,"Origen's  comparative 
text,  92. 

Hippo,  Augustine  becomes  bishop 
of,  287;  resorted  to  by  astrono- 
mers, 288;  invaded  by  Vandals, 
299. 

Hippolytus,  canons  of,  114,  115. 

Ignatius,  martyrdom  of,  45,  47; 
letters  of,  46,  47;  urges  obedi- 
ence to  bishops,  95. 

Irenaeus,  urges  argument  from 
tradition,  against  Gnostics,  79, 
80;  his  connection  with  be- 
ginning of  the  Church  and  of 
the  Creed,  80,  81,  95;  writes 
to  Florinus,  49;  meets  Mar- 
cion, 49;  confers  with  Anicetus, 
50. 

Jerome,  his  education,  260,  261; 
at  Aquileia,  261;  in  the  desert, 
262;  writes  life  of  Antony,  262, 
263;  removes  to  Rome,  264; 
his  controversy  with  Helvi- 
dius, 265;  with  Jovinian,  266; 
with  Vigilantius,  266,  267;  his 
letter  to  Eustochium,  267;  his 
witness  against  the  world,  154; 
leaves  Rome,  268;  in  Bethle- 
hem, 269,  270;  his  translation 
of  the  Bible,  270,  271;  his  "last 
communion,"  271;  describes 
invasion  of  barbarians,  296. 

Jovinian,  his  controversy  with 
Jerome,  266. 

Julian,  emperor,  his  endeavor  to 
substitute  Neoplatonism  for 
Christianity,  88;  tries  to  make 
worid  pagan,  168,  169. 

Justiua,  empress,  and  Arian,  191; 


309 


INDEX 


asks  aid  of  Ambrose,  192;  asks 
for  church  in  Milan,  192. 

Justin  Martyr,  his  education,  69, 
70;  his  conversion,  70;  his 
"Apologies,"  70,  71;  his  ac- 
count of  the  Christian  service, 
71,  72. 

Juvenal,  12. 

Libanius,  teacher  of  Chrysostom, 
209. 

Libellatics,  57. 

Lucilla  and  the  martyr's  bone, 
108. 

Lucian,  his  satire  of  the  Chris- 
tians, 66,  67. 

Lyons,  martyrs  of,  53,  54. 

Magna  Mater,  21. 

Marcion  the  Gnostic,  77,  78;  op- 
posed by  Tertullian,  101. 

Marcus  Aurelius,  his  opinion  of 
the  Christians,  64,  65;  quoted, 
20. 

Martin,  his  biographer,  245;  his 
youth,  246;  at  the  gate  of 
Amiens,  247;  converts  a  brig- 
and, 248;  asks  for  the  prints 
of  the  nails,  248;  his  calum- 
niators, 249;  his  dealings  with 
devils,  250;  becomes  bishop  of 
Tours,  250;  his  monastic  life, 
251;  intercedes  for  Priscillian- 
ists,  251;  dines  with  emperor, 
252;  his  cape,  253. 

Martyrs  of  Lyons,  53,  54;  of 
Carthage,  54,  55. 

Meletians,  140,  141. 

Milan,  Edict  of,  61,  124. 

Mithra,  22;  religion  of,  83,  84- 
86. 

Monasteries,  in  Nitrian  desert, 
256. 

Monasticism,  psychological  rea- 
son for,  150;  philosophical  rea- 


son for,  151;  emphasized  by 
hardness  and  badness  of  the 
world,  151-55;  Eastern  and 
Western  compared,  243,  244. 
Montanists,  their  prophet,  96; 
against  secularism,  97,  98; 
against  formaHsm,  99;  joined 
by  Tertullian.  100. 

Nectarius,  bishop  of  Constanti- 
nople, 206,  222. 

Neoplatonism,  its  contempt  of 
reason,  87;  its  scriptures,  87; 
taught  by  Plotinus  and  Por- 
phyry, 88;  patronized  by  Jul- 
ian, 88;  Christianized  by 
Dionysius  the  Areopagite,  88, 
89. 

Nero  and  the  fire  in  Rome,  34, 
35. 

Nicaea,  the  place,  129;  the  Council 
of,  130-36;  the  Creed  of,  136. 

Novatians,  after  Decian  perse- 
cution, 101, 102;  aflBrms  against 
them  the  right  of  the  Church 
to  absolve,  103,  104  ;  Cyprian 
denies  their  right  to  secede, 
104,  105. 

Organization  of  the  Church,  be- 
ginning of,  94. 

Origen,  pupil  of  Clement,  91; 
why  not  styled  "saint,"  91,  92; 
first  Christian  commentator, 
92;  his  allegorical  method,  92; 
first  Christian  theologian,  93. 

Pachomius,  follows  Antony  as 
monastic  pioneer,  156,  157. 

Patricians,  their  wealth,  11;  de- 
scribed by  Juvenal,  12;  repre- 
sented by  Pliny,  12,  13;  their 
benefactions,  14. 

Paul,  the  hermit,  life  of,  by  Jer- 
ome, 262,  263. 


310 


INDEX 


Paula,  friend  of  Jerome,  265;  fol- 
lows him  to  Bethlehem,  268 
studies  with  him,  269. 

Paulinus  of  Tyre,  builds  a  church 
112. 

Pelagius,  his  doctrine  of  salvation, 
292;  writes  to  Demetrius,  293; 
is  opposed  by  Augustine,  292- 
95. 

Perpetua,  martyrdom  of,  64, 
55. 

Persecution,  for  social  reasons, 
S3-36;  for  conmaercial  reasons, 
36-39;  on  account  of  super- 
stitious dread,  39,  40;  on  ac- 
count of  political  dread,  -41; 
general,  43,  44;  the  Decian, 
65-58;  the  Diocletian.  69- 
61. 

Plebeians,  their  rise  from  slavery, 
15;  represented  by  Trimalchio, 
15, 16;  and  by  their  tombs,  17; 
poverty  of  many,  17. 

Pliny,  12,  13;  corresponds  with 
Trajan,  36-41. 

Plotinus,  his  teachings,  87. 

Polycarp,  his  memories  of  St. 
John,  49;  meets  Marcion,  50; 

[  confers  with  Anicetus,  50,  61; 
martyrdom  of,  52. 

Porphyry,  "Against  the  Chris- 
tians," 87,  88. 

Postumianus,  his  visit  to  Jerome, 
260. 

Priscillianists,  their  heresy,  251; 
interceded  for  by  Martin,  252; 
condemned  and  put  to  death, 
252. 

Prophets,  the  order  of,  97. 

Pythagoreans,  their  doctrines, 
20,21. 

Religion  of  Rome,  attacked  by 
foreign  conquest,  23;  took  no 
account  of  sin,  24;  persistence 


of,  25;  domestic,  25;  commer- 
cial, 26;  social,  27;  obligation 
of,  28. 
Roads  of  the  Roman  world,  con- 
struction of,  6;  travellers  upon, 
5,6. 

Secularism,  beginning  of,  in  the 
Church,  97,  98. 

Serapion,  his  Sacramentary,  116, 
117. 

Slaves,  nimaiber  of,  18;  condition 
of,  18,  19. 

Stoics,  their  beliefs,  20. 

Superstition,  a  cause  of  perse- 
cution, 39,  40. 

Tacitus,  his  account  of  the  fire  in 
Rome,  33-35;  his  opinion  of 
Christianity,  64. 

Te  Deum,  composed  by  Nicetas, 
285. 

Tertullian,  his  hatred  of  philos- 
ophy, 90,  100;  his  experience  of 
the  world,  100;  his  war  against 
heretics,  esi>ecially  Marcion, 
101;  becomes  a  Montanist,  101; 
promises  joys  of  heaven,  18. 

Theban  legion,  41,  42. 

Theodosius,  named  by  magician, 
173;  called  to  imperial  throne, 
174;  installs  Gregory,  176;  par- 
dons Antioch,  215-21;  mas- 
sacres citizens  of  Thessalonica, 
202;  does  penance,  204. 

Theophilus  of  Alexandria,  his 
two  letters,  225;  his  dealings 
with  the  Tall  Brothers,  232;  his 
deposition  of  Chrysostom,  233, 
234,  236. 

Traditors,  107. 

Trajan,  corresponds  with  Pliny 
about  the  Christians,  38;  and 
about  fire  company  in  Nicome- 
dia,  41. 


311 


Trimalchio,  his  banquet,  15,  16. 
"True  Word"  of  Celsus,  69. 

Valentinian  II,  vainly  defies  Ar- 

bogast,  189. 
Valentinus  the  Gnostic,  76. 
Valerian,  persecutes  Christians, 

57,  58. 
Vigilantius,  opposes  worship  of 

relics,  267. 


INDEX 

Vulgate,  271. 


World,  the  Roman,  its  boun- 
daries, 1;  its  neighbors,  2; 
its  divisions  East  and  West, 
3;  its  cities,  3,  4;  its  roads, 
4,5. 

Xystus,  bishop  of  Rome,  mar- 
tyred, 58. 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U  .  S   .  A 


Return  to  desk  from  > 
This  book  is  due  on  tl 


c-    >U^ 


308708 


^ 


I 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


ttmm^mttm 


